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Printed on the occasion of the Exhibition of Paintings by Senor Sorolla 

at the invitation of the Hispanic Society of America, is6th Street, 

West of Broadway, New York City, February 4 to March 9, 1909. 


NEW YORK 1909 

Copyright, 1909, by 







Aureliano de Beruete 


Camille Mauclair 


Henri Rochefort 


Leonard Williams 



Elisabeth Luther Gary 


James Gibbons Huneker 


Christian Brinton 


William E. B. Starkweather 







DURING the past two decades, Spanish art has 
made advances so great, that it to-day occupies 
among contemporary European schools of painting 
a position of proud preeminence. 

Fifty years ago the essentially national art of Spain 
seemed well-nigh extinct. Basing their work upon 
the cold pseudo-classicism of David, there had grown 
up in the peninsula a group of men \vho quite domi- 
nated Spanish art and who devoted their considerable 
talents to the painting of huge historical illustrations. 
In the work of Frederico Madrazo and of his innu- 
merable pupils, whose ranks included such distin- 
guished craftsmen as Casado del Alisal and Resales, 
we but occasionally find traces of that unwavering 
naturalism which has been the characteristic of Span- 
ish art in its greatest epochs. 

Nor did the comet-like Fortuny, with his horde of 
imitators and followers, serve to revive the historical 

'This presentation of its subject, not before printed, has been 
prepared as a lecture to be illustrated by the lantern. 

school of Spain. Endowed with amazing natural 
gifts, Fortuny chose to forsake his own country and 
the subjects of his country and gave us a series of 
works more French than Spanish and which, though 
astounding in their technical achievement and glitter- 
ing beauty, are not free from the reproach of insin- 
cerity and commercialism. 

From this chaos of French influence there has re- 
cently emerged a group of artists of extraordinary 
power, who, absolutely Spanish in style, have revived 
the art of their Fatherland and are forcing it to that 
position of eminence which it held in past centuries. 
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, Ignacio Zuloaga, Gonzalo 
Bilbao, and Hernan Anglada are the leaders of this 

The intensely national character of his work, his 
extraordinary technical attainments, the catholicity of 
his choice of subject, and the volume of his output 
have given Sorolla an undisputed position as the chief 
of this strong group of vigorous painters. For ten 
years he has exerted a dominating influence over 
Spanish art. 

Sorolla's strength is the strength of the people. 
Born of humble parents in Valencia, on the twenty- 
seventh of February, 1863, he had the misfortune to 
lose his parents during the great epidemic of cholera 

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that swept the city two years later. Together with 
his infant sister, he was adopted by his maternal aunt, 
Dona Isabel Bastida, and her husband, Don Jose 
Piqueres, the latter by trade a locksmith. At school 
young Sorolla took no particular interest in his les- 
sons, but spent the greater part of his time scribbling 
and sketching on his school books. Finally, his uncle 
withdrew the boy from the class-room and placed 
him at the forge, where Sorolla worked away for 
some time and laid the foundation for that splendid 
physique which has served him so well in later years. 
Sorolla soon began study at a drawing-school for 
artisans, where he showed great ability. Encouraged 
by the natural aptitude of his nephew, Senor Piqueres 
permitted him to leave his work at the forge forever 
and to attend the local art school known as the Real 
Academia de San Carlos. Here the youth became 
the favorite pupil of Estruch, and had the good for- 
tune to enlist the interest of Senor Garcia, a celebrated 
Valencian photographer, who assisted the struggling 
artist for some years. Subsequently Sorolla married 
the daughter of his patron, Dona Clotilda. 

At seventeen Sorolla made his first trip to Madrid 
and exhibited a picture, a landscape, which to-day he 
characterizes as "Very bad." "It could not have 
been worse," he says laughingly. Led on by that 


tremendous ambition and enthusiasm which are the 
greatest characteristics of the man, and amply backed 
by his great bodily and mental force, Sorolla at twenty 
years of age undertook the painting of a twelve-foot 
canvas and gave us his first important picture, "The 
Second of May." 

This picture depicts the desperate resistance of the 
Madrid people to the French in the Spanish War of 
Independence. It is a turgid, immature work, imita- 
tive in many ways of Goya; theatrical in treatment, 
and deficient in technical achievement. It is inter- 
esting, however, inasmuch as it forecasts something 
of what the future art of Sorolla was to be. The 
young painter started the huge work in a studio. 
He found the result disappointingly unreal. Under 
the first promptings of that tendency toward realism 
which afterward became a passion with him, he 
scraped his canvas clean and set it up again in the 
open bull-ring of his native town. Here in clear sun- 
light, with his models smoke-enshrouded to give the 
effect of battle, he painted the picture. The reality 
which the canvas thus gained is its principal claim 
to merit. In 1884 he gained a scholarship from the 
city of Valencia and w r ent to Italy. Here he copied 
from the Italian masters and, under the influence of 
the classical Roman school, painted his only religious 

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picture, "The Burial of the Saviour," a correct, but 
cold and unrepresentative work. 

A journey to Paris, however, gave the young man 
opportunity to study works of Bastien-Lepage and 
of Menzel. Among modern painters these two great 
realists have been Sorolla's chief enthusiasms. 

During his first visit to the Metropolitan Museum, 
made a few weeks ago, it was Bastien-Lepage's great 
picture, "Joan of Arc," that he looked for with im- 
patience in every room. It was this picture that he 
studied with greatest interest. And in the exhibition 
of contemporary German art, the pictures of Menzel 
moved him to boyish enthusiasm. 

Returning to Italy he continued his work as a 
copyist. Sorolla himself regards this Italian trip as 
effort spent in vain. He had not found his definite 
manner. Always determined, however, always indus- 
trious, he produced several large works of rather in- 
determinate style. With his return to Spain, Sorolla 
fell upon difficult years. He was very poor and sup- 
ported himself largely by the sale of water colors 
and illustrations. He has told me that the first pic- 
ture he ever sold, a landscape, brought him seven 
pesetas, that is, $1.40, and that he painted small por- 
trait heads at a dollar apiece. He was habitually 
reduced to such shabby shifts as painting on the 

coarse back of his canvas, instead of on the smoother 
prepared side, so that his picture would have the 
effect of having the tooth of a heavier and more 
expensive canvas than that which he could afford. 

Finally, in 1892, he exhibited at Madrid his first 
representative picture, "Otra Margarita." His suc- 
cess was immediate. He found himself at once 
among the front ranks of Spanish masters. Brought 
to the World's Fair at Chicago, this canvas now hangs 
in the Museum at St. Louis. 

With "Otra Margarita" the career of the Sorolla 
the world knows may be said to have begun. He had 
found himself. 

Sorolla's work has come as a surprise and revela- 
tion to the American public. Famous for years in 
Europe, where he has won every honor within the 
gift of the French government, he had shown but 
little of his work in this country and has been repre- 
sented here but by a few scattered and rather early 
examples. Now, under the auspices of the public- 
spirited Hispanic Society of America, which has 
brought Sorolla to our country as its guest, he has 
shown us a representative collection of his work in 
a more splendid and harmonious setting than it has 
ever before received. 

Judged superficially, there might be a first tendency 


La Concha, San Sebastia 


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to declare that we had seen work more essentially 
Spanish than is his. Sorolla has done few costume 
pictures. In his work you will find no gipsies, no 
cigarette girls, no figures strumming guitars, none of 
that passing Southern Spain for which tourists search 
and which the general public expects of Spanish 

"They said I did not paint Spain," Sorolla once 
exclaimed of some early French criticism of his work, 
"because I did not paint a duchess with her arms 
about the neck of a bull-fighter. That Spain, the 
Spain of Theophile Gautier, no longer exists !'' 

I remember very well on my first trip to Spain that 
the painter reproved me sharply for reading Gautier s 
book, saying with patriotic pride that it maligned his 
country as it is to-day. 

Of the four great leaders of modern Spanish art, 
Sorolla, Anglada, Zuloaga, and Bilbao, Sorolla is in 
reality the most thoroughly national, because he is 
the most thoroughly realistic. Only in rare instances 
has he occupied himself with anything else than a 
masterly representation of the appearance of things. 
With psychology, philosophy or symbolism he is not 
concerned and, like Velazquez and Goya, absolute 
realism has been the basis of his art. Velazquez in 
his third manner was undoubtedly the first of impres- 

sionists. He threw aside traditions, or compromises 
with tradition, and in Las Mcninas gave us a ren- 
dering of what he actually saw instead of what he 
knew to be there. The facts, the visual impressions 
of that court group, are presented to us exactly as 
they would have been recorded on our eye had we 
been there to see and if we had had the keenness of 
eye to discern. And as a result of this insistent 
analysis, he arrived at giving us correct renderings 
of the figures as they stood before him in illuminated 
atmosphere, securing effects of unrivaled natural- 
ness, and for the first time in the history of painting, 
deriving tone and quality in a picture by a repre- 
sentation based on natural harmony, rather than by 
some arbitrary toning process of the studio. Goya, 
much less limited in field than Velazquez, extended 
the impressionism of the earlier master to suit his 
own temperament. And Sorolla has taken this picto- 
rial impressionism that is the heritage of Spanish art 
and carried it ably on with the brilliant and extended 
range of the palette of to-day. 

His work has so far been marked by four distinct 
manners. The Segovians, the oldest work in the 
Hispanic Society exhibition, is a good example of 
his first manner. Here the subject is more definitely 
arranged than in his later work, the color is darker. 


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the technic less spontaneous. In the figure of the 
old man rising from his chair, of the girl with 
her head turned toward the window, there is 
some hint of a blind search toward those qualities 
of transience and accident which so definitely mark 
his later work. 

In his second manner we find a much less delib- 
erate arrangement, a much truer understanding of 
illumination and submergence of figures in atmos- 
phere, while his brush work has begun to assume 
that surety and finality that now distinguish it. 

His third manner is most clearly shown in his great 
picture "Beaching the Boats." The elemental nature 
of this scene, the struggle of man and beast with the 
forces of wind and water, have given Sorolla perhaps 
his greatest opportunity. One of his earliest large 
canvases of this scene, painted when a little past 
thirty, was bought for the Luxembourg by the French 
government. Now in the fullness of his middle years 
he has given us a final colossal treatment of this 
subject, a masterpiece of painting and drawing that 
has occupied places of honor when shown at London, 
Paris, Madrid, Berlin, and New York. Here his 
rendering of sunlight has reached a point of luminous 
splendor and beauty beyond which he himself, nor 
any other man indeed, has ever gone. The crafts- 


manship of the picture is masterly. The tremendous 
vigor, abundance, and fine sanity of the man's art 
find in this canvas one of its greatest expressions. 

Sorolla's work is characterized by extraordinary 
excellence in three great qualities, drawing, paint- 
ing, and color. It is well-nigh impossible to overstate 
the triumph of his technic. 

His drawing, at all times adequate, has become 
wonderful in its simplicity and directness., in its 
grasp of essentials, its searching characterization. 
There is no problem of moving figure, of scintillant 
sea, that offers him difficulty. He has said of draw- 
ing, "The older I become, the more I realize that 
drawing is the most important of all the problems of 
picture-making. Whether you use three thousand 
strokes, or ten strokes, in the painting of a shoul- 
der, counts for nothing. What is really of im- 
portance is that the shoulder be solid and well 

As a matter of fact, however, it is well-nigh im- 
possible to separate his drawing from his painting. 
His drawing is painting, his painting drawing. Few 
would quarrel with the statement that he knows bet- 
ter than any other living man how to apply pigment 
to canvas. The surety, the brilliancy, the solidity of 
his work, are unsurpassed in our time. And his tech- 


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nic is majestic in its power and dignity. It never 
descends to fireworks for fireworks' sake: his hand 
is always the servant, never the master. 

In his fourth manner, illustrated by his picture 
entitled "Country People of Leon," the search for 
reality has been carried so far that there remains no 
trace of deliberated composition. This huge work 
has been taken from life with the same lack of pre- 
vious plan with which another artist would toss off 
a thumb-nail sketch. Summoning all his extraor- 
dinary equipment as a painter, Sorolla has made a 
furious assault on the canvas in the effort to approxi- 
mate as nearly as possible the effect of a picture 
painted in a moment to represent what he had seen 
in a moment of the kaleidoscopic group before him. 
The canvas is a marvel of virtuosity. For simplifica- 
tion, for certainty of technic, for speed, it stands 

"The great difficulty with large canvases is that 
they should by right be painted as fast as a sketch," 
Sorolla has said. "By speed only can you gain an 
appearance of fleeting effect. But to paint a three- 
yard canvas with the same despatch as one of ten 
inches is well-nigh impossible." It is these theories 
that have found expression in this latest phase of his 
extraordinary art. 


"But the canvas is twenty years ahead of its time," 
Sorolla has said of it. "I fear that people will hardly 
like or understand it." 

''Twice in your life," he has said to me, "you might, 
through happy accident, arrive at painting a nose with 
a single stroke of the brush. Things well done and 
arrived at with this simplicity are marvelous in effect. 
But it would be the maddest folly to go all your life 
thereafter trying to paint noses with but one stroke, 
for it would be manifestly impossible to sustain your- 
self at a height the reaching of which is accidental. 
When an artist begins to count strokes instead of 
regarding nature he is lost. This preoccupation with 
technic, at the expense of truth and sincerity, is 
the principal fault I find in much of the work of 
modern painters." 

In color for outdoor work Sorolla has swept his 
palette clear of all earthy or opaque colors such as 
are generally employed in depicting shadows. "The 
chief glory of the old masters," he has said, "is their 
drawing and characterization. I find their color for 
the most part purely conventional. The chocolate 
brown shadows which they painted on the side of a 
face, for example, do not exist. With all its ex- 
cesses, the modern impressionistic movement has 
given us one discovery, the color violet. It is the 


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only discovery of importance in the art world since 

It is manifestly impossible, through lack of per- 
spective, for a painter's contemporaries to judge what 
place he will hold in future years among the great 
figures of art. But if the name of Sorolla be finally 
included among those of the immortals, it will be due 
to his rendering of sunlight. "It is impossible really to 
paint sunlight," he has said, "one can only approximate 
it." But in many of his canvases he has certainly 
come near to performing the impossible. It seems in- 
credible in approaching some of these paintings, that 
these effects are obtained with ordinary paint only. 

One searches for some trick of reflection, of luster 
paint, of concealed mirror, in these radiant canvases 
of sparkling sea, of shining sail. As a master of 
sunlight he ranks absolutely alone. 

The art of Sorolla is an art of joy, of sunshine, of 
splendid youth. He does not consider for a moment 
failure or distress, old age or death. It is an art 
somewhat savage, somewhat pagan; but it is an art 
beautifully vigorous, admirably robust. 

In a time when art is so concerned with the elabora- 
tion of the minor and the mournful, his frank opti- 
mism, his healthy delight in living, as shown in these 
pictures, is a refreshing note. 


Sorolla as a man is indefatigable. There is noth- 
ing he cares about save his family and his art. To 
these two objects he has devoted his entire life. He 
goes into society as little as possible, and, in the past 
thirty years, there have been comparatively few days, 
save Sundays, when he has not worked six to nine 
hours. His output has been enormous. At his exhi- 
bition in Paris, three years ago, he showed five hun- 
dred pictures, last year at London, two hundred and 
seventy-eight. Some idea, too, may be gained of his 
output when we remember that comparatively few of 
the (356) canvases he is now exhibiting at the His- 
panic Society are more than four or five years old. 
Certainly, his work has never been seen to better 
advantage than in the beautiful building of the His- 
panic Society. And the unusual construction of the 
building, with the decorative lines of the arches of 
its patio, have given the exhibition a setting and tone 
entirely distinct from that which it could have gained 
in a more conventional gallery. 

Sorolla's range of interest is very great. From 
sunlit sea, he has turned to sunlit garden ; has shown 
us opulent Spain in her happiest moods ; has painted 
with delight whatever has caught his fancy with its 
dash of life, its light, its picturesqueness. And the 
great contrasts of the man's art, his almost incredible 



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facility, are best shown in turning from such a picture 
as his old Castilian, painted with robust picturesque- 
ness, to his exquisite picture "Mother." 

The volume and quality of his work are comparable 
only to Rubens. Indeed, in their fiery ambition, in 
the fierce necessity for creating, which each of the 
artists has felt, as well as in their approach of art 
entirely through outward aspect, one finds many 
points of resemblance between these two men. 

A painter of Sorolla's position in Spain has natu- 
rally been called upon to paint some portraits of 
Spanish royalty. Of the young King of Spain he 
has given us one strong head, painted in four hours, 
which shows remarkable insight and analysis, which 
is indeed an historical record of the royal sitter before 
him. The portrait is curious as having been auto- 
graphed in paint by the king himself, the monarch 
presenting it to one of Spain's grandees. The queen, 
Victoria Eugenia, he has painted in her coronation 
robes, and of the heir to the throne has given us a 
delightful little sketch. As far as possible Sorolla 
has abandoned the traditional manner of painting 
royalty, the gold chair, the background curtain, and 
in the portrait of the Infanta Isabella, one of the 
most popular of the Spanish royal family, has devel- 
oped an excellent quality in quiet gray. And in black 


he has given us a portrait of distinction of Princess 
Henry of Battenberg, mother of the Queen of Spain. 

It is true of all artists that their best portraits are 
never official portraits, but those made of their own 
families. Painting in a tranquil and familiar atmos- 
phere those he knows and loves best, there is apt to 
be a quality of ease and psychological understanding 
in these portraits not so generally found in portraits 
painted to order. It would be particularly fitting in 
the considering of these delightful and intimate 
family portraits of Sorolla, to commence with that 
of his father-in-law, Senor Garcia, who gave him 
generous backing during his early years. He is one 
of the kindliest and simplest of men. Senora Garcia 
and her granddaughter Maria have offered the theme 
for a quiet and well characterized portrait that recalls 
in its telling something of the color and manner of 

Sorolla's style as a portrait-painter has been 
marked by four manners as well as has the style of 
his general work. These are seen clearly in four 
portraits of Senora de Sorolla. In his first style he 
distinctly followed Velazquez, whose \vork he copied 
as a young man. It is interesting to note in this con- 
nection that Sorolla does not now advise students to 
copy from this great master of Spanish art. "Go to 

him and study, reverence him, but do not copy him," 
he says. "It would be of more value to you to put 
up a basket of oranges and paint them than to repeat 
Las Meninas." 

In his second manner Sorolla has become more 
robust, more personal. An example of this manner 
is the portrait of Senora de Sorolla standing beside 
a red chair. This graceful portrait he considers one 
of his best works. The obscure and conventional 
brown background that marked his earlier portraits 
has disappeared and there is more of a tendency to 
cool gray and black. 

This tendency we find still more marked in his 
latest portrait done indoors, showing Senora de 
Sorolla wearing the Spanish mantilla, a very power- 
ful work of fine quality. All trace of Velazquez in- 
fluence has disappeared ; there is, however, quite a 
hint of Goya in the furious painting and the rich blacks. 

His fourth manner in portrait-painting is one of 
the very recent developments of his art and is some- 
thing entirely new in portraiture. This class includes 
his portraits in sunlight. No sacrifices are made for 
the head, as is so generally done in the usual portrait. 
In a portrait of Senora de Sorolla at La Granja, we 
have both a charming picture of a lady by a fountain, 
and a remarkable character study as well. 


In this class may be included a fine work of his 
daughter Maria, also painted at La Granja. It is 
something of a joke in the Sorolla family to say that 
it is Maria who supports the family. Her father has 
painted nis daughter innumerable times, and her por- 
traits have an exceedingly ready sale. From the 
walls of a hundred public and private museums por- 
traits of Maria look down, as well as do representa 
tions of his youngest daughter, Elena, shown in the 
dainty "Kiss" picture. The Sorolla girls consider it 
little short of scandalous if a work painted by their 
father is not sold in three years, and I have heard 
them joke their brother because pictures painted in 
which he is the center'of interest do not sell so well. 

Possibly the most striking of the portraits in sun- 
light of this painter is that of Alfonso XIII in the uni- 
form of the hussars. The King stands in the garden 
of La Granja. The glitter of sun, the sparkle of light 
on gilded military ornaments have given the painter 
opportunity for remarkably picturesque effect. 

The Duke of Alva is one of the last of a long 
series of the distinguished sitters who have come 
under Sorolla's brush. It is one of the most satis- 
factory and most strongly characterized portraits he 
has given us of the Spanish nobility. 

Of the Don Alejandro Pidal y Mon, statesman 

and man of letters, Sorolla has painted an excellent 
head. It is interesting as an example of what the 
painter can do in a single session of two hours, the 
entire picture having been finished in that time. The 
work is marked by the same thoughtful qualities as 
those which characterize a subtle rendering of Don 
Aureliano de Beruete, the Spanish authority on Velaz- 

In contrast to these men might be shown most 
fittingly a portrait of Blasco Ibanez. With what skill 
the painter has changed his technic from the suave, 
fine manner of the Beruete portrait, to the brusque, 
brutal, trenchant style that aids so greatly in giving 
proper character to the burly masculine figure of the 
author of "Blood and Sand." 

In sharp contrast again is the nervous sketch of 
Franzen, the well-known Spanish photographer. 

And no\v let us in imagination make a journey 
together to Valencia and try to gain some glimpse of 
Sorolla painting. It was at Valencia that Sorolla 
was born, it is here he is most thoroughly at home, 
it is here that he has done his greatest \vork. Sorolla 
is a child of the sun, a modern Zoroastrian, and the 
sun he loves best is the burnished orb of Spain's 

It would be then an August night, say, at eight 


o'clock, when we board the express for Valencia in the 
Estacion del Mediodia. The train slips through the 
Spanish twilight into velvet night. Past mourning 
Aranjuez we go ; the stations become more rare and 
deserted as we plunge along. No longer we hear the 
reedy cry of the child selling water, "Agua fresca !" 
or the long-drawn wail, "Almohadas para viajeros !" 
(Pillows for travelers). In the first dawn we tumble 
out of the carriage at Albacete to buy a clasp knife, 
the stock product of the town. The sun soars up 
mercilessly as we go on. As we pass Jativa, the 
early morning is already stifling and we decide crossly 
that we dislike the town with its dusty palms, blazing 
walls, and hedges of adelfas. At last the train pulls 
along by the big red bull-ring of Valencia and lands 
us in the Estacion del Norte, one of the ugliest 
railway terminals of Europe. 

Before the door, arid and uninviting, lies the Plaza 
de San Francisco, relieved at its further end by a 
mass of tropical trees. You have but to pass this 
when, suddenly, you find yourself in one of the most 
moving and picturesque towns of Spain. The peculiar 
sparkle and brilliancy of the place under its glorious 
sun, the clearness of its atmosphere, the radiance of 
its very shadows, these seem to form the peculiar 
key-note of Valencia and of Valencia's beach. There 



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is plenty of glare in the city, but swinging awnings, 
swaying shadows of palms speak of the nearness of 
the sea. There is nothing oppressive in the illumina- 
tion, as there is at Burgos, where the dying town 
lies like a sick lizard, breathless in the yellow sun. 
And there is nothing of the pitiless illumination 
of Toledo, where that shadeless city sits gaunt, 
blinded and exposed on its huge red cliff. In passing 
through the town you may possibly catch a glimpse 
of its great cathedral, of the picturesque market-place 
dominated by the Lonja de la Seda, and, indeed, if 
you watch sharply, may even see the Calle del Pintor 
Sorolla, an important street named by a grateful 
municipality after its illustrious son. 

Valencia lies three miles from its port. For thirty 
centimes a very modern electric tram carries the trav- 
eler across the curious old Puente de Serranos. Be- 
low, the river Turia, sun-dwindled, sulks along, a 
mere rivulet of heavy water in its broad bed. We 
pass a dusty tropic garden and enter the long Camino 
del Grao with its bordering plantans. To the right 
we pass a handsome garden belonging to Senor 
Garcia, Sorolla's father-in-law, where the painter has 
done some of his delightful orange studies; to the left 
we hear the resonant din of an occasional foundry, 
gain some glimpse of a cottage embowered in adelfas. 

All this country has been reflected in the magic mirror 
of Sorolla's art with the extraordinary sincerity and 
vision that characterize the man. No aspect of the 
country has been so mean, so lowly, as to leave him 
cold. I well remember my amazement when, as a 
green art student, trained in conventional schools, I 
took my first walk with him through the country and 
saw him stop entranced before a pile of manure cov- 
ered with straw litter, the whole a sparkle in morning 
light. "Stupendous, colossal, magnificent !" he said 
with customary enthusiasm. "I am going to paint it !" 
"I am going to paint it !" should be the crest of Sorolla. 
It is a succinct expression of the man's whole soul. 

The streets grow narrow and dirty, teams loaded 
with merchandise drag slowly by, their drivers asleep. 
A turn in the road and we are in the port itself. This 
riffraff of tramp steamers, this hurly-burly of the 
quay, Sorolla has caught in many of his pictures, and 
he has devoted many other canvases to the motley 
array of fishing-boats that find refuge in the inner 

To the north of the port, the train brings you to 
Las Arenas ("The Sands"), a fashionable bathing 
establishment. Across a foot-bridge, and we are on 
the borderland of Sorolla's beach. Northward, along 
the coast, staggers a slipshod fishing village called El 

Cabanal. The houses are low, unpretentious white- 
washed structures that blaze with color from door 
and window ; for, "Gracias a Dios," we are in Spain, 
where a man may paint his door blue and his window 
pink with impunity. The low lines of the fishers' 
huts are broken only here and there by the flare of a 
pert summer villa, looking like nothing so much as 
a big bonbon. Before the irregular row of cottages, 
stretching an eighth of a mile in width to the violet 
Mediterranean, blazes and shimmers an unbroken 
sweep of smooth sand. It is dotted with fishing craft 
of every description and alive with people. We have 
reached Sorolla's real studio. 

Perhaps the first impression made on one's eye at 
the beach is the glory of the fluttering sails of the 
fishing-boats that rest in a row by the edge of the sea. 
Their sails are curious in form, doubtless just like 
those of the Grecian and Phenician craft that came 
to these sunlit shores so long ago. The bird-like belly- 
ing movements of these clouds of canvas, as they 
sway drying in the sun and wind, have been a note that 
has fascinated Sorolla and that he has reproduced 
again and again, and always with his extraordinary 
facility for seizing the accidents of motion. 

About these boats center the life of the beach. Per- 
haps a boat is just coming in and is being beached in 


the way peculiar to Valencian folk. Several yoke of 
oxen are driven into the sea and hitched to the boat's 
prow. Ways are laid under the keel, and then the 
vessel is dragged in through the surf to the sand. 

The fishing-boat once on the sand, the fishing 
people swarm about to see the catch ; the children who 
have been bathing nearby crowd around. It is a 
moment of chatter and bargaining, of screaming and 
laughter. The beach of Cabanal is no place for those 
with weak eyes. The sun is not only in the sky. It 
blazes at us from the wet side of a boat, gleams on 
the silken head-dress of Josepha Maria, glints on the 
fish she is selling, reflects from the wet back of her 
bathing child, is thrown back by the curve of a wave. 
The whole scene is radiant with light, with youth, 
with the joy of living. 

"Alegria del Agua," Sorolla has called one of his 
pictures. It shows a romping mob of children racing 
into the sea. "Alegria del Agua" with "Alegria del 
Sol" might be taken for a description of Cabanal 
beach and for a description of Sorolla's art as an 
outdoor painter. 

What dexterous use he has made of all the pictur- 
esque material the beach offers ! Some of the little 
girls he has painted in their wind-blown bathing gar- 
ments have the charm of the delightful figures of 


Playa de Valencia 


Concha, San Sebastian 


Tanagra. The nude little savages he has shown dis- 
porting themselves in the waves furnish a rare oppor- 
tunity to study his wonderful drawing, the amazing 
surety and simplicity of his technic. 

In the glitter and gorgeousness of the Valencia 
beach there is one sad note. At five o'clock in the 
afternoon may be seen coming through a country 
road a group of boys dressed in the drab of an or- 
phanage, and guided by two Franciscans. They are 
the offcast children of wretched parents. Most of 
them are crippled, some of them bear the stigmata of 
idiocy, many are totally blind. As the melancholy 
cortege reaches the beach, however, boy nature asserts 
itself against physical limitations. There is a thin cry 
of joy, and the whole pathetic, grotesque company 
rush for the water with what speed they can make. 
The moment of the bath Sorolla has taken for his 
picture "Triste Herencia," which won for him the 
grand prize in Paris and Madrid. "It is the only sad 
picture I ever painted," he says of it. "I suffered 
greatly. I shall never do another." 

Nine o'clock finds Sorolla at work upon the beach. 
He works standing, at the water's edge, his models 
often before him in the wash of the sea. The Medi- 
terranean, practically tideless, permits one to work by 
its side all the morning without moving. Back of 

Sorolla is generally arranged a huge piece of canvas 
stretched on poles and painted black to avoid reflec- 
tions on the picture, and placed in such a way as to 
screen him from the unduly curious. At his feet sits 
Pepe, one of the most intelligent, and most certainly 
the laziest fisherman in Spain. During the summer, 
Pepe serves Sorolla, carries his canvases on his head, 
cleans palettes, searches for models. At times Pepe 
is himself a model, and as Pepe has a widely assorted 
lot of children of his own, who often pose, he makes a 
very good thing of his summer. Pepe is a philos- 
opher. As he lies in the shade and watches the 
painter work, he comments on life, propounding the 
theory that only six years of life are of value, the 
years from six to twelve. "From one to six you are 
a baby," he says, "life does not count. From six to 
twelve life is all gold. At twelve all joy is ended, 
you must work, you have responsibility." And, sigh- 
ing heavily, he lights another cigarette of abominable 
tobacco, and rolls back further into the shade. 

One wonders which is more pitiless, the sun above, 
or the furnace of the sands beneath. A wind from 
the sea brings no comfort, and, indeed, only prevents 
keeping up a sun umbrella. All day long, and every 
day in the summer, Sorolla paints calmly on in the 
sun, in a heat that often reaches no in the shade. 



It is a trial by fire for any northern born student who 
tries to keep up the tremendous pace. Sometimes at 
five o'clock, after six and a half hours of this paint- 
ing, Sorolla begins another study by the sea, and 
paints until sunset. He has done this for twenty-five 
years. Can this explain some of the wonder of 
his technic? "Have you worked?" "Have you 
worked?" is the insistent question he is constantly 
putting to a student, even though long since he has 
learned that the student leaves no hour unoccupied. 

It is a most interesting thing to see Sorolla paint- 
ing. I will tell you a little incident of his work 
typical of the man. Once, after a tremendous day, 
at five o'clock in the afternoon, Sorolla began on an- 
other study of a little girl entering the sea. To make 
his picture less a figure study, he decided to put three 
little children in the sea. Two little girls and a boy 
waded into the water hand in hand, laughing, mak- 
ing no particular effort to stand still. They were, in- 
deed, washed here and there by the waves. Sorolla 
painted the three wet figures, gleaming in the gold of 
the setting sun, in fifteen minutes. It was a marvelous 
display of master painting. At twilight I went down 
the beach to put my painting things in a shack for the 
night. In the darkness of the place I heard groaning. 
Stretched at full length, face down on the dirt floor, 


was a Spanish student of Sorolla, who had been with 
me but a short time before, watching the painter. 
I thought he had a sunstroke, and was seriously 

Suddenly, the young fellow turned on me fiercely : 
"Did you see Sorolla paint those children?" he cried. 

"Do you ever think you can learn to paint like 

And then, without waiting for a reply, he bawled : 
"You can't, I can't, nobody else can ! He don't know 
himself how he paints. He just paints as a cow eats !" 
A superficial study of Sorolla's painting might 
lead one to think Francisco was right. He paints ap- 
parently without any worry or preoccupation, very, 
very fast, and with tremendous surety. "I could not 
paint at all if I had to paint slowly," he says. "Every 
effect is so transient, it must be rapidly painted." He 
grasps in a few searching strokes an accidental move- 
ment, a fleeting expression, a retreating wave. There 
seems to be no mistake, no undoing. His picture 
builds steadily to completion. Most of his pictures 
are painted in from four to six mornings, many in 
one or two. He does not arrange in his mind before 
he starts what sort of a picture he is to get. One of 
his most common criticisms of a pupil's \vork is, "This 

196 A 

Playa de Valencia 


looks fixed up, as if you had an idea before you 
started of what you would make of the scene. Go to 
nature with no parti pris. You should not know 
what your picture is to look like until it is done." 

"Just see the picture that is coming," he says often 
of his canvases, as they are being built up, exactly as 
a photographer, in developing a plate, watches with 
suspense emerge on the film the scene he photo- 
graphed. His big pictures are painted in almost the 
same way. There is no elaborate composition sketch. 
A German firm once wrote with a view to buying the 
original sketch for the picture "Beaching the Boats." 
"There was none," he replied. His big pictures are 
worked directly from nature in a shack built by the 

Francisco was wrong in thinking that Sorolla does 
not know how he paints. The ease and brilliancy of 
his work blinds us at first view to all evidences of long 
and thoughtful training. Always back of his paint- 
ing is that twenty-five years in which he has painted 
and smoked a great deal, eaten and slept a little. 
Than this Sorolla does nothing. In the development 
of his work, everything has been studied, everything 
has been watched, all false paths avoided, every dan- 
ger met. A student said to Sorolla, "I have arrived 
fairly well in drawing, fairly well in the technic of 


painting, but in the regard for drawing and painting 
when working from nature, I find it difficult to look 
out for fine quality." 

"Ah ! That is the last thing one arrives at," said 
Sorolla. Then he tapped his forehead. "It is here 
you do it," he said. 

One hundred miles south of Valencia, a little used 
narrow-gage railway brings us through an opulent 
country to a shack of a railway-station known as 
Vergel. The only train that brings you there in the 
day arrives exactly at noon. From the station there 
is nothing to see save a miserable fonda across the 
way and a blazing white road that stretches away in 
radiant sunlight across the treeless plain. That 
twelve-mile ride in the tumble-down Vergel diligence 
is not a tempting prospect, but it is the opening of the 
door of Javea, a hidden Paradise where Sorolla has 
done a great part of his outdoor work. 

Those twelve miles are very, very long. The dust 
powders you as white as it has silvered the vineyard 
by the wayside. The fat lady who has come with her 
maid to spend two weeks in the country with her 
family, cries, "Dios, que calor," and swears by all the 
saints that the climate is changing and that the sum- 
mers are surely warmer than when she was a girl. 
Her servant pulls close the curtains of the crazy vehi- 


cle to keep out the light and the dust. We lumber 
through many a Spanish village with its white-washed 
walls, gay doors and windows, dominating church, 
staring faces. What strikes one as very curious is to 
find electric lights in most of these villages that are 
absolutely without other evidence of modern civiliza- 
tion. Ahead of one in the plain looms Mongo, a 
mountain of naked rock. For it, the road makes a 
vast detour, and at the crest of a little hill we look 
at last upon Javea. 

An Arab town, is your first thought. In a con- 
fused mass of white-walled houses, half- revealed rose 
gardens and beaten, unpaved roads, the town creeps 
down to its beach. The violet of the bay is held at 
the sides by the splendor of two great capes, San 
Antonio and Nao. Their walls of rock sweep far out 
into the sea and form the most eastern projection of 
Spain in the Mediterranean. Blocked from north and 
south by these sentinels, backed by Mongo, the town 
sleeps as though lulled by its hushing sea, by the 
sighing cypresses about its well-trodden calvary. The 
town has no hotel ; Baedeker is unknown. A slat- 
tern woman, at one wretched place, after prodigious 
scurrying about by her husband to buy provisions, 
serves you two fried eggs, a piece of cold fish, and 
some black olives. 

A walk through the town will take you past some 
of the great raisin warehouses. Inside, in the semi- 
gloom, hundreds of women are stemming raisins for 
shipment to England. As they work, they sing in 
honor of the Virgin a dragging canticle that echoes 
through the ancient arches of the place and out into 
the still afternoon air. 

Life is in every way most primitive and living is 
very cheap. A furnished house near the quay may be 
rented for eleven cents a day, but beware, unless you 
bring an establishment of servants with you from 
Madrid, you may find little to eat. There is no ice, 
and little meat. Butter is a messy mass brought in a 
tin from Switzerland, or even Denmark, and served 
day after day in the same tin until it becomes a rancid 
offense. Inquiry elicits a fabled report that a certain 
very rich man actually has some cows on a farm far 
away, but that their milk is precious beyond selling, 
and is sent only as a gift of great price to those far 
gone in sickness. Goats' milk only may be had. An- 
tonio drives the goats to your place and milks them 
just before your breakfast, and the milk is drunk 
warm before it spoils with the heat. "My milk is 
better than Vicente's," says the goatherd. "I know 
best the places in the mountain where there is grass." 
This he says with the air of a botanist announcing 

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Playa de Valencia 



Playa de Valencia 

Playa de Valencia 


the secret of a bed of rarest orchids. Meat is covered 
thick with salt, and hung- in a tin pail down a well. 
A hapless artist who would perforce live near the 
sea, must throw himself on the mercy of Paquita, 
who may or may not be willing to cook for him in the 
back room of her grocery. Without butter, every- 
thing is fried or boiled with olive oil. The cooking 
is done out of doors over a tiny fire of twigs. The 
fish is delightful, so are the melons, but strange, 
crawly things of the sea are served, whose like you 
have only before seen in alcohol bottles in zoological 
museums. Occasionally, on opening a soup tureen, 
you find floating on the surface of the oil soup a good- 
sized fish, boiled, head and all. Its single visible eye 
stares at you glassily, and you replace the cover of 
the dish and turn to find what further adventure din- 
ner may bring you. 

Javea is the ideal place for a painter. There are no 
newspapers, no letters, no engagements. One paints 
from dawn to dusk. It is the huge, tawny rocks of 
the place under the pitiless and searching illumination 
of the sun of Alicante that supply the characteristic 
paintable note of the place. Here Sorolla has shown 
us wonderful studies of the children of the port at 
play, as in the remarkable study of the boy hunting 
mussels. These happy little savages play about all 

day in a freedom undisturbed by problems of primary 
education. "Is there a river between New York 
and England?" asked a sixteen-year-old girl, at 
Javea, "or is London separated from England only 
by mountains?" It was in the limpid waters of this 
port that Sorolla undertook the solution of a problem 
of the swirl of sun-pierced water about a human 
figure. Of this subject he made several preliminary 
studies, and then in four afternoons of brisk work pro- 
duced his large canvas. The. composition for this 
picture \vas scrawled on the side of his house in 
charcoal w r hile servants were busy stretching the big 
canvas for the work. The picture was painted, of 
course, directly from nature, the stretcher being tied 
with ropes to some posts which had been arranged 
temporarily on a ledge of rock, first chiseled smooth 
for the purpose. Six urchins served in relays as 
models, three swimming round and round for the 
painter, while three rested and warmed themselves 
in the sun. Of his own family bathing among the 
rocks of Javea he has shown us some delightful pic- 
tures, that reflect all the gaiety, radiant happiness, and 
intimacy of the scene. Plunging about in the swing- 
ing sea and clear waters of these secret glens, with 
the laughter of the Sorolla children echoing back 
from the rocks about, it seems impossible to believe 



Patio del Cabanal 


En el rio 

Puerto de Valencia 


e Valencia 


that there is anything in the world but youth and 
laughter and success. The colors at Javea are almost 
unbelievable. Above, a cloudless sky of violet-blue is 
broken by the mounting yellow walls of Cabo San 
Antonio, all about the rock formations are brilliant 
with imbedded stones of every hue, while every swirl 
of the water discovers a wealth of color in the swing- 
ing, growing plants that find their home in the sea. 

"I can't paint that," "I can't paint that," Sorolla 
often says of these incidents at Javea. "Everybody 
would only say it was made up in the studio." And 
then he adds, "As far as outdoor work is concerned, 
a studio is only a garage ; a place in which to store 
pictures and repair them, never a place in which to 
paint them." 

Spain's eastern coast has not always held the atten- 
tion of the artist. In his earlier manner he has given 
us some canvases full of the quiet charm of Asturias 
and Galicia, with their English-like landscape of 
sloping hillside and opulent trees. The somber hills 
and mountains near Segovia have given him their 
quota of subjects and the quiet restraint of the pic- 
tures form a sharp contrast to the opulent blaze of the 
greater part of his work. One summer at least found 
him at worldly Biarritz, for which as a whole he had 
little sympathy. Painting with the charm with which 

he always depicts his children, he shows us his house- 
hold on an afternoon walk upon the cliffs near the 
lighthouse. The work has all the idle accident, the 
informality, the ease and intimacy of the scene itself. 
A lady amusing herself with amateur photography 
has supplied him with a brilliant opportunity for sun- 
light painting, as well as has an extraordinary study 
of his daughter Maria against the chaos of a sunlit 

Two of the great historic cities of Spain have also 
been revealed by his brush, Toledo and Sevilla. 
Toledo was visited during the winter and the studies 
made there lack the fierce edge of sun that the sum- 
mer traveler associates with this town. For poetic 
charm, for the amazing sincerity of his style, these 
studies are unsurpassed. It seems unbelievable that 
results so subtile, so exquisite could be obtained with 
brush-marks so few and so broad. He has seized at 
once the atmosphere of blood and grimness and death, 
of splendor, parade, and decay that characterize this 
place and crystallized them in such a study, for exam- 
ple, as that of the Puente de Alcantara, with its sug- 
gestion of the sluggish Tagus below, its hint of 
frowning walls above. One of the most picturesque 
bridges of Toledo is the old fortified bridge of San 
Martin, with its entrances commanded by two great 

Playa de Valencia 

Playa de Valencia 

Playa de Valencia 


stone towers. The ravine of the Tagus here reaches 
a considerable depth, and from the bridge a splendid 
view offers of the sun-scarred country about. Sorolla 
has shown us with unrivaled skill the tumble-down 
ruin of San Servando, on its deserted hillside, and has 
taken us into the house in which the mystic Greco 
dreamed and painted, and in which he died. 

Twice he has painted within royal precincts, first 
at Sevilla, where he was commanded to paint portraits 
of the Queen and the heir to the throne. Here he 
painted a jewel-like series of pictures of the Alcazar 
or old Moorish palace. This series is the most deco- 
rative of all his productions. Sorolla's joy in the 
pleasant things of life is shown clearly in his love of 
gardens, and of these subjects alone he has painted 
enough pictures to have equaled the lifework of an- 
other artist. His pictures of these opulent oriental 
courts, with their roses and orange trees, their fervid 
color, their heat, will carry many of us back in 
memory to holidays spent in that most marvelous, 
most beautiful of Spanish cities, Sevilla. The man's 
preeminence in outdoor work, the unrivaled prismatic 
splendor of his color, can best be judged by comparing 
this series of studies with results which other artists 
have obtained in this most painted of palaces. 

In contrast to the oriental color and quality of 

these Moorish courts, \ve turn to the mournful pomp 
of La Gran j a, with the desolate splendor of that 
eighteenth-century garden built by a homesick French- 
man in memory of Versailles. Few of Sorolla's 
canvases have greater feeling than these renderings 
of haunted garden, of dilapidated fountain. How 
admirable is his drawing of this rippling water. It 
shows the same careful observation, the same search 
for anatomy that we find he devotes to the telling of 
the turn of an arm, the curve of a shoulder. And at 
La Gran j a he has given us one unforgetable picture 
of little children at their bath in the trout stream that 
flows by the palace grounds. 

It would be fitting to close our series of pictures, 
this evening, with the last work the artist painted 
before coming to America, a superb decorative canvas, 
showing his two daughters dressed in the Valencian 
costume of 1808, and on horseback. It was painted, as 
are all his works, directly from nature, the two girls 
being mounted on a horse held by a servant, in the 
garden of their Madrid house. 

Sorolla is but forty-six years old. He is in the 
height of his power, the height of his success. In 
his sane and illuminating art there is no trace of 
decadence, of weakening, or of carelessness. Success 
has brought the man nothing of pose or of relaxation. 


Malvas reales 


Los geranic 

Altar de San Vicente, Valencia 


Feverish energy, tremendous health, great keenness 
of mind, all these are still his great endowments. For 
him the star of ambition shines fiercely, dimming all 
else on his horizon : he is endowed with that consum- 
ing creative passion characteristic of genius. The 
future is his. 

I know of no more fitting way to close my remarks 
on this great painter, this evening, than by quoting in 
his regard the beautiful legend engraved on the medal 
of the Hispanic Society of America, to whose public 
spirit and enlightenment the American people and 
Sorolla owe so much. 

"Blessed are those whom genius has inspired. They 
are like stars. They rise and set. They have the wor- 
ship of the world, but no repose." 

Playa de Valencia 



Playa de Valencia 


.,.. TW*^... 

Mercado de Lee 


(The Evening Post, February 4, 1909.) 


SIR: May I add a few words to the announcement 
made in your issue of last Saturday of the approach- 
ing exhibition of the paintings by Senor Sorolla y 
Bastida, at the Spanish Museum? In 1906 a similar 
exhibition of some 400 canvases electrified Paris. It 
was my privilege to see it more than once, and the 
uplifting impression then received was never to be 

Sorolla is a past master of everything that is 
joyous in art. His color is brilliant and sane, his 
technic virile and sure, and his versatility amazing. 
He covers, with almost equal touch, the whole field 
of easel art portraits, landscapes, delightful studies 
of child-life out of doors, and noble animal studies, 
the latter being the subject of the large canvas owned 
by the Luxembourg, of oxen towing a boat ashore. 

1 The following are only a few chosen from many, of which 
others would doubtless equally invite reproduction. 


Sorolla is a man in middle life who has trodden 
the road to fame very modestly, but surely. With 
the exception of Goya, who revolutionized modern 
art, and to whom he owes much, Sorolla y Bastida 
stands in the estimate of many next to Velazquez in 
the list of Spanish masters. 


(The Evening Post, February 4, 1909.) 

IF the New York public does not take advantage of 
the exhibition of Sorolla y Bastida's pictures at the 
Hispanic-American Museum, it will gain a well 
deserved reputation for having no love for really 
great art. The exhibition is the most important we 
have had for many a long day. For two months men 
have been at work gutting the museum of its Spanish 
treasures to provide room for the pictures which now 
occupy the alcoves on the floor of the hall and the 
walls of the gallery above. An immense amount of 
artificial light has been provided, and by some it was 
thought that the electric lights gave the sun-lit paint- 
ings a fictitious brilliancy. But it was our privilege 
to see some of the Valencia beach scenes without the 


Playa de Valenci 


Playa de Valencia 


Playa de Valencia 

aid of artificial light, and they did not lose one iota 
of their brilliant tone. One Hundred and Fifty-sixth 
Street sounds very like the other end of the world, 
but it takes less than half an hour by a Broadway 
express on the subway from Forty-second Street to 
One Hundred and Fifty-seventh Street. 

A FEW words about Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida. He 
is a modest little fellow, who talks no English and 
not much French. He will enter his forty-seventh 
year the end of this month. He was born in Va- 
lencia, was left an orphan when he was two years 
old, both parents being carried off by cholera, and 
was adopted by an aunt, the wife of a locksmith. At 
school he spent much of his time making drawings in 
his copy-books, and was actually encouraged by the 
master. As he made no progress in his lessons, his 
uncle took him away from school and placed him in 
his workshop, but allowed him to attend drawing 
classes, and, at the age of fifteen, he was permitted to 
devote himself entirely to art. He became a student 
at the academy at Valencia, and almost immediately 
won the prize for coloring, drawing from the model, 
and perspective. A gentleman named Garcia, whose 
daughter Sorolla afterward married, became inter- 
ested in the youth, and enabled him to remain for 

several years at the academy. When he first exhib- 
ited at Madrid his pictures attracted no attention 
until he showed "The Second of May," a scene of the 
Spanish War of Independence, which contained the 
striking innovation of having been painted in the 
open air. Sorolla won a scholarship which took him 
to Rome; thence he went to Paris, where the works 
of Menzel and Bastien-Lepage opened his eyes to the 
revolution that was going on in art. It was "The 
Fishing Boat's Return," exhibited at the Salon in 
Paris and purchased by the Luxembourg, that first 
gave Sorolla a world-wide fame. The "Beaching of 
the Boat" (318), in the exhibition at the Hispanic- 
American Museum, repeats the same motive on a 
larger scale. The walls of the museum tell the rest 
of his artistic career. 

(From the New York Herald, February 5, 1909.) 



PAINTINGS by Mr. Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, a 
leader in art in Spain, were placed on exhibition 

Playa de Valencia 


Huerta de Valencia 

Playa de Valencia 


Playa de Valencia 


yesterday in the museum of the Hispanic Society, at 
Broadway and 1 56th Street. 

Here is a "one man show," of almost huge dimen- 
sions, for Mr. Sorolla displays 356 canvases, eighteen 
more than could be hung in the space available for 
the last exhibition of the National Academy of De- 
sign. The museum is not quite adapted for the 
showing of so large a collection, but skilful use of 
artificial light has adequately answered the purpose 
of the exhibition, which is to give to New York an 
idea of the art of one of Spain's greatest painters. 

Mr. Sorolla is no faddist ; he does not proclaim him- 
self as the head of any school. He goes his own way 
into the realm of a cheerful realism. To tell in 
detail of the pictures which hang upon the dark walls 
of the museum would be like reviewing an exhibition 
of the works of many artists, all painting with con- 
summate skill yet with variations of style. Here Mr. 
Sorolla wields his brush broadly, and there with 
smoothness. He covers this canvas thick with paint 
and again leaves the texture of it scarcely concealed. 
Here he tends toward French impressionism ; there 
he paints with the exactitude of the early English 
portrait-painters. The dominant note of the exhibi- 
tion is sincerity and earnestness. 

Everything in this world seems to appeal to Mr. 


Sorolla. He limns king and peasant, youth and age, 
health and faltering disease, the palace and the 
raisin shed, the gardens where pleasant fountains 
flow and the barren dust heap. In all that he does he 
is a master. 

Six portraits of members of the royal family of 
Spain are in the collection. King Alfonso is shown 
in the brilliant uniform of the hussars- and again in 
the garb of the artillery. There is a charming like- 
ness of the young Queen and nestling in his crib with 
only his small red face revealed is the heir to the 
Spanish throne, the young Prince of the Asturias. 
There are also portraits of the Infanta of Spain and 
Princess Henry of Battenberg. 

For the remainder of the exhibition it may be said 
that its subject is all humanity. Although the art of 
Mr. Sorolla is that which conceals art, his wonder- 
ful technic triumphs in a greater degree when he 
paints children swimming or playing in the surf or 
along the beaches. There are several canvases which 
depict nude youngsters swimming, and so naturally 
are the tints and the texture of the flesh represented 
and all the values of greenish water given that the 
effect is as though one were actually looking from a 
window upon a coast where children were at nata- 
torial play. 


Playa de Valencia 


i*;." U'jJ'* >;''"> " ''^ai^^&aE^ 

Playa de Valenci 


Playa de Valencis 


Flaya de Valencia 


In the "Old Castilian" Mr. Sorolla appears as a 
genius in genre, while in "The Sad Inheritance," a 
painting lent by the Church of the Ascension, he 
sounds the depths of pathos. Taken all in all his art 
lives in the sunshine even when it is sad. 

Among the canvases especially distinguished by the 
grace and beauty of their subjects is "In the Gardens 
of La Granja." 

(The New York Times, February 5, 1909.) 

SOROLLA Y BASTIDA, whose works are to be seen at a 
private view this week, and are to be on public ex- 
hibition at the Hispanic Museum, 1 56th Street, west 
of Broadway, from February 8th until March 8th, 
is one of the most important of the followers of the 
great artists of ancient Spain, and the opportunity to 
enjoy his pictures in this country is one more of those 
happily increasing opportunities which not only 
broaden international sympathies but stimulate the 
love of art among our own people. 

Seiior Sorolla was born at Valencia, in Spain, in 
1863, and began seriously to study art at the age of 
fifteen. He studied at the academy of his birthplace 
for several years, and won a scholarship which en- 


titled him to a period of study in Italy. He visited 
Paris also, where he was profoundly impressed by 
two exhibitions in the French capital at the time 
one of the work of Bastien-Lepage and the other of 
the work of the German, Menzel. In Italy he copied 
the old Italian masters and in Madrid he copied Ve- 
lazquez and Ribera, all of which work went to the 
strengthening of his technical capacity without inter- 
fering with his personal message. 

His personal message is a national one as well. 
His work has the stamp of his race. He is nearer to 
Goya than to Velazquez, but is wholly without Goya's 
cruelty of temper and brutality of vision. His Spain 
is a pleasant country, populated by kindly, intelligent 
people, and he depicts both the country and the people 
with a genial warmth of sympathy and an apprecia- 
tion of the gayer side of life that is at once stimu- 
lating and soothing. 

His portraits are grave or brilliant in treatment as 
the subject demands, but are invariably spontaneous 
and filled with the spirit of life. Among them are 
many personages interesting for the place they occupy 
in the Spanish world as well as for their interpreta- 
tion by the painter. There are six portraits of mem- 
bers of the royal family two of Alfonso XIII, that 
in the uniform of artillery having a look of the Phil- 



Mujeres jugando 


2 3 8 

Playa de Valencia 

ips in Velazquez's patient record of royalty; one of 
the Queen of Spain, one of the Princess Henry of 
Battenberg, and one of the Infanta. And there is a 
bewitching portrait of the baby Prince of the Astu- 
rias. There is also the Senor D. Raimundo de Ma- 
drazo, an eminent portrait-painter, and there is the 
Senor D. Alejandro Pidal y Mon, a statesman and 
man of letters, who looks his great distinction and 
who in addition to his accomplishments is noted as 
the possessor of the unique manuscript of the poem 
of the Cid. There are Senor Menendez y Pelayo, 
the most eminent living scholar in Spain, and Senor 
de Beruete, whose work on Velazquez is the supreme 
authority; also the Marques de la Vega-Ynclan, who 
is head of the royal stables and who has founded a 
museum of El Greco at Madrid, and other personages 
not less important. 

Discussion of the paintings, which number more 
than three hundred and fifty, must be deferred to a 
later notice. The exhibition is too vital an introduc- 
tion to the modern art of Spain to be summed up in 
a few words or in one impression. 


{The Evening Post, February 5, 1909.) 



THE New York public will owe a deep debt of grati- 
tude to The Hispanic Society for giving it an oppor- 
tunity of seeing the paintings of a Spanish artist, 
Sorolla y Bastida of Valencia, whose work has in the 
last few years created much enthusiasm in the art 
world of Europe. The exhibition, now on private 
view in the building of the Hispanic Society of Amer- 
ica, on One Hundred and Fifty-sixth Street, west of 
Broadway, will be open to the public, free of charge, 
on Monday next, and will remain open until March 
8th, Sundays included, between the hours of 1 1 A. M. 
and 9 P. M. No one who appreciates great painting 
should miss seeing the exhibition, for Sorolla is a 
very great painter; not one of his brother artists, not 
one amateur of art, who has seen his work, but ranks 
him among the greatest painters of the day. 

Sorolla is preeminently a realist and an open-air 

painter. His first important work, "The Second of 

May," painted in 1884, representing the resistance of 

the people of Madrid to the French in the War of In- 

160 ] 

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dependence of 1808, struck a new note. It was 
painted in the open air. 

"I hate darkness," he will tell yon. "Claude Monet 
once said that painting in general did not have light 
enough in it. I agree with him. We painters, how- 
ever, can never reproduce sunlight as it really is. I 
can only approach the truth of it." And again. "I do 
not care to paint portraits indoors. I cannot feel 

There are in the exhibition 350 paintings and 
sketches "notes of color," as Sorolla calls them. 
To deal with all, in our limited space, would be an 
impossibility. Let us speak, then, of a few of those 
open-air pictures into which the painter's sympathy 
enters, that sympathy which can even make an ugly 
subject beautiful; where, with a swift and unerring 
hand and a brush full of brilliant color, he sweeps in 
the actuality of life almost without exception, the 
joyousness of life and in his sweep produces mar- 
velous modeling. 

Sorolla probably learned much from the early im- 
pressionists, but, unlike the modern school, he never 
betrays his technic ; his work appears spontaneous. 
We spoke of his unerring hand. It is said, and we 
have the authority of an artist who has painted side 
by side with him, that Sorolla never makes a correc- 

tion to use that artist's own expression, "he paints 
with the hand of God." At any rate, however he 
paints, he gives one the impression of dashing in with 
extraordinary rapidity what he was actually seeing, 
without having studied the scene, and to all that he 
lends remarkable quality. 

Take, for instance, "Alegria del Agua" ("Water 
Joy" ) . It is a scene on the beach at Valencia ; naked 
boys are galloping into the sea, and two girls, wearing 
light bathing-suits, are trotting toward the water; in 
the distance are fishing-boats scudding with their 
sails full. Boys and girls and boats are full of ac- 
tion, and the drawing of the figures is quite extraor- 
dinary. In another picture, "Corriendo por la Playa" 
("Running Along the Beach"), the movement of the 
two girls and a boy is even still more remarkable. 
Note, too, how the hands, which, at a short distance, 
appear to be so carefully modeled, are dashed in with 
bright orange paint ; note, too, with what a few 
strokes the perfect modeling of the boy who is in the 
water in the distance is done. This is rather an ex- 
ception, for, as a rule, Sorolla only suggests the dis- 
tant figures. The grandeur of the color in these two 
cases, as in the rest of the pictures we are about to 
describe, must be taken for granted ; it would be an 
idle repetition to mention it. 

Original sketch for Xo. 350 

241 A 

Mercado de Leon 


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But talking of modeling, there is no picture in the 
exhibition where one can study better how Sorolla 
makes a perfect drawing by means of a strong line 
than in the one that shows a peasant woman bearing 
her naked grandchild, and there is no doubt she is 
moving to the sea. The baby's beautiful little head 
leans against its grandmother's neck, while the right 
arm clings to the old woman's left fore-shoulder. 
The grandmother wears a dark blue blouse, a pale 
blue dress, and a mauve apron. The extraordinary 
drawing of that baby's right arm is done by two 
sharp strokes of dark blue on the woman's blouse, 
one above the arm, the other below. The modeling 
of the baby's back, too, is perfect. There is not an 
artificial stroke in the whole painting. It is pure 
color throughout and all the modeling is made by the 
play of color. 

Study, too, the modeling of the baby boy in "Al 
Bano" ("At the Bath"), who toddles hands in hands 
between his big and little sister. With what simple 
methods are the muscles worked in; notice the care- 
less stride of the elder girl; the tender solicitude of 
the younger, and the skill displayed in the drawing of 
her hand and that of the baby which she holds. 
Again in the picture numbered 303, a boy and girl on 
their way to the water, what modeling in the boy, 

what a play of sunshine in the whole picture. But as 
a tour de force in the play of sunlight the "Despues 
del Baiio" ("After the Bath") is startling and almost 
makes one doubt Sorolla's word that he can only ap- 
proach the truth of it. It represents a laughing girl 
buttoning the shoulder of her wet bathing dress. A 
boy holds up a white sheet to cover her with through 
which one sees the color of his naked limbs. If that 
is not true sunlight which falls upon the sheet, hits 
the girl's arm, and gives a dash of turquoise blue to 
one of her feet, it is a very close imitation. But we 
could go on for pages describing the beauty of these 
beach scenes; the composition of "Morning on the 
Beach at Valencia," the group on the shore, the bath- 
ing boys, and the boats with their bellying sails ; the 
extraordinary modeling of the boy crabbing, of the 
young girl in "El Bano, Javea" (98), and the sparkle 
of the water into which she is about to dive, and the 
color of "Salida del Baiio" ("Coming Out of the 

There is one picture that strikes a deeper note than 
these the one sad picture of the whole exhibition. 
It is called "Triste Herencia" ("The Sad Inheri- 
tance" ) , and belongs to John E. Berwind. It hung in 
the Sunday-school room of the Church of the As- 
cension, on Fifth Avenue; yet few knew that New 

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2 4 6 




York possessed this masterpiece. The "sad inheri- 
tance" has come to a number of crippled or imbecile 
boys who are being watched over by a priest as they 
take their bath on the beach at Valencia that has lost 
all the gladsomeness of Sorolla's other beach pieces. 
Here again the artist displays his marvelous powers 
of draftsmanship. There is a boy in the right- 
hand corner of the picture shading his eyes from the 
sun, the modeling of whose figure, simply indicated 
by the shadow on his stomach, is quite extraordinary, 
and that of other boys on crutches is no less re- 

The largest canvas in the exhibition, "Oxen Ready 
to Beach Fishing-Boats," is so full of brilliant draw- 
ing and painting that if we once started to describe 
them we should not know where to stop, what with 
the modeling of the great bellying sail, of the oxen, 
and especially of their hind quarters, the quality of 
the sea and the action of the figures; and the same 
virtues are to be found in 316, one of the many 
"Playa de Valencia" ; and in the "Return from Fish- 
ing" (102). 

When we come to Sorolla as a portrait-painter, 
especially when he is painting royalties and grandees, 
we find him less great. The sun-lighted pieces may 
have bewildered us. He appears to be very rarely in 


sympathy with his model. And, as we have said be- 
fore, he dislikes painting indoors. One of the two 
portraits of the King of Spain, that in which he 
wears a hussar uniform, is an outdoor picture, with 
the sun playing on his Majesty's features, but it is 
no longer the sun that shone on the beach at Valencia. 
Another outdoor portrait, that of Madrazo, the 
painter, is more satisfactory, but still we do not rec- 
ognize in it the Sorolla we have been wandering with 
along "The Playa." We find him again, however, in 
"Maria at La Granja," dressed in white and delight- 
fully simple, and, if it is not exactly the real Sorolla, 
we detect a fine portrait-painter in a picture of Senora 
Sorolla promenading in a garden where some mas- 
terly work in black and white is shown. The picture 
of the young Queen of Spain in white satin, wearing 
an ermine cloak, ropes of pearls, a small crown, and 
pearl and diamond ornaments, and with a deep crim- 
son background, is hard. The little picture of the 
baby Prince of the Asturias is charming, but still not 
Sorolla, and the same may be said of an excellent 
likeness of the Queen's mother. Princess Henry of 
Battenberg, dressed in black and wearing many 
diamonds. But we come across the great master of 
color again in certain landscapes in "The Yellow 
Tree, La Granja," in "The Seven Peaks," and in the 

C 178-3 






tones of yellow in the "Walls of Segovia," and in 
"The Clamores." 

Before closing this criticism, it is only fair to say 
that there was exhibited in Paris the portrait of a 
mounted general, which was generally conceded to 
prove Sorolla a worthy successor as a portrait-painter 
of Velazquez and Goya. 

(From the New York Herald, February 7, 1909.) 
AMERICAN receptiveness to art has been shown in 
various ways this season. At present, with the second 
biennial exhibition in the Corcoran Gallery in Wash- 
ington, recently closed, the annual exhibition of the 
Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, in Philadelphia, 
in progress, and the National Academy of Design, 
which already has held its winter exhibition, prepar- 
ing -to hold its regular annual show, opportunity also 
is offered to view two exhibitions of foreign art. 
These are the contemporary German art show in the 
Metropolitan Museum and the exhibition of work by 
a noted Spanish artist, Mr. Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, 
in the Hispano- American Museum, in I56th Street, 
west of Broadway. 

That peace hath its victories no less than war is 
illustrated in the fact that Spain since its disastrous 


conflict with America has begun a new conquest in 
art. The influence of contemporary Spanish art is 
making itself felt more strongly, and that one of the 
leaders in this art should be invited to America to 
exhibit is in itself significant. 

Under the title "A Great Spanish Artist" Mr. 
Charles M. Kurtz some time ago contributed to 
"Scribner's Magazine" what still remains one of the 
most comprehensive articles on Mr. Sorolla's work 
written by an American. The St. Louis Museum of 
Fine Arts owns this Spanish painter's picture, "An- 
other Marguerite," and this, as well as many other 
examples of Mr. Sorolla's work, may be seen repro- 
duced in Mr. Kurtz's essay. "Another Marguerite" 
is tragic in subject. In execution it emphasizes the 
pathos rather than the dramatic possibilities of the 
theme and is sad and somber. But his subjects are 
most varied and often full of life and gaiety. Some 
passages in Mr. Kurtz's article, quoted at the time, 
but especially significant now, are for this reason 
worth calling attention to again. 

"No other living painter," says Mr. Kurtz, "sur- 
passes Sorolla in his representations of light and at- 
mosphere. He is especially fond of out-door sub- 
jects views along the coast, fisher people, boatmen, 
boats with sails filled by the breeze, women with 



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2 5 6 

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skirts blown by the wind, naked children playing in 
the surf, sturdy oxen with ropes attached pulling up 
boats on the sands. In his genre pictures he studies 
mostly the common people and paints them to the 
life. Indeed, all his work is instinct with vitality. He 
seems to imbibe something of the essence of whatever 
he studies and to involve it in his representations. 
No other painter seems to cover such tremendous 
range of subjects or to show such variety in his tech- 

(The Nation, February n, 1909.) 


PRECEDED by a heightening fame in Europe, which 
was accentuated by the success of exhibits of his 
paintings in both Paris and London, the Spanish 
artist, Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, is now to be seen in 
New York. More than 350 of his pictures and 
sketches are on view at the Museum of the Hispanic 
Society of America, where they will remain till 
March 8th. It is a collection extraordinary for range 
and brilliancy. To have produced at forty-six so 
great a body of mature work indicates uncommon 
fertility; to have attained such striking results argues 

genius. Sorolla's method is that of a modified im- 
pressionism, but such a seeing eye as his must be, 
such a rapid and sure technic, would have made 
him a great artist under almost any method. His 
painting seems absolutely direct. Critics are putting 
microscopes upon Velazquez's canvas, to see if they 
can discover anything like niggling under the broad 
free sweep of his' brush, but it would occur to no one 
to apply such a test to Sorolla. His stroke is obviously 
as unwavering as that of a piston, the pure color 
being laid on in one jet. There is no fussing; all is 
immediate, the drawing, the modeling, being got by 
the swift use of the final color. He is called a 
triumph of the "new" school, but such great gifts as 
his would have glorified any school. 

If definitions must be sought, Sorolla is not so 
much an artist of the plcin air as of the full sun. His 
greatest mastery lies in rendering the highest notes 
of the Spanish sun. Especially powerful are his 
paintings of sea and sand in the brightest light, with 
fishing boats, and oxen to draw them up, and bathers 
and children playing on the beach or splashing in the 
water or racing into the wave or emerging from the 
bath all under the sun of Valencia or San Sebastian 
or Biarritz. Many of the paintings dealing with 
these favorite subjects of Sorolla are positive tours 


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de force, which simply leave the gazer astounded at 
the artist's extraordinary talent. It seems as if he 
had discovered a new way of fixing instantaneously 
in paint not only form and color, but motion. In 
such a picture as "Alegria del Mar," the happy dash 
of the naked boys into the surf is life caught in the 
act, while the turned face of the youngster deepest in, 
with the one line of white to show where his teeth 
gleam in joy, is the keynote to the whole. In land- 
scapes away from the sea, or under more somber 
skies, Sorolla is not always so victorious; but flood 
him with sunlight, and he will flood you. Even in his 
portraits, he seems to desire to get his sitter out into 
the sun. One of his best is that of a gentleman sit- 
ting in strong light among bright flowers in his 
garden. The full length of the King of Spain, clad 
in brilliant uniform, is done out under the open sky, 
with an effect, as one bystander remarked, as if the 
King had swallowed sunshine and it was oozing from 
him at every pore. A much more powerful rendering 
of Alfonso's face is the darker one painted indoors, 
which for its unshrinking revelation of melancholy 
struggling through the mask of youth, and its air of 
a fatal heredity adding gloom to every feature, might 
well have been given the name which Sorolla has 
applied to his large picture of crippled children on 


the seashore, "Triste Herencia." The portrait of Me- 
nendez y Pelayo, done last year, is equally masterful. 
The entire exhibit is a noteworthy event in this art 
season. Sorolla is certain to provoke wide discussion, 
in which admiration will be a common ground of all 
disputants, whatever their differences. It is said that 
his pictures may be shown in Boston, and possibly in 
other cities. If so, one can predict a new Spanish 
conquest of America. 

(The New York World, February 13, 1909.) 



JOAQUIN SOROLLA Y BASTIDA, a sun-worshiping im- 
pressionist painter from the country of Velazquez, 
Spagnoletto, Murillo, and Goya, came to New York 
in foggy February with some 300 of his pictures. 
The expected nay, the inevitable has happened. 
In little more than a fortnight's time, what might 
have been in some circumstances a mere ripple of 

C 196] 

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Playa de Valencia 



artistic interest has risen to a tidal wave of en- 
thusiasm. And the effect bears true and just relation 
to the cause for this is undoubtedly the most bril- 
liant and stunning "one-man show" to which art- 
loving Manhattan has ever yet been treated. 

Every day, Sundays and holidays included, rain or 
shine, morning and evening alike, the general public 
go, literally by thousands, to the new museum build- 
ing of the Hispanic Society, which stands like a 
temple on a noble eminence overlooking the Hudson 
at One Hundred and Fifty-sixth Street surely the 
"farthest north" for picture exhibitions. 

It is safe to say that more than wonted satisfaction 
over the city's acquisition of art treasures will be felt 
in the announcement that a number of the most im- 
portant of Sorolla's canvases are to remain here per- 
manently. These include the grand, Homeric 
"Beaching the Boats" with the loose sails bellying 
in the sun and breeze, and big brown oxen at their 
toil amidst the swirling breakers of the joyous blue 
sea and the striking group of Leonese peasants, 
with their gaily-caparisoned donkey; which two rep- 
resentative works, it is rumored, are destined for the 
Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Hispanic Society 
also has acquired a number of the portraits and his- 
toric landscape scenes. 

As for the "Triste Herencia" ("Sad Inheritance"), 
the most thoughtful and outwardly somber of all 
Sorolla's pictures, showing a score or so of naked, 
weak, and crippled boys, some of them on crutches, 
the inmates of an asylum for the cast-off children of 
depraved or delinquent parents, enjoying their pa- 
thetic imitation of a happy moment in a summer sea 
bath, under the Christlike charge of a stalwart 
priest, robed in black this eloquent sermon in paint 
already belongs in New York. It is owned by Mr. 
John E. Berwind, and, when not on public view, 
hangs in the Sunday-school room of the Church of 
the Ascension, Fifth Avenue and Tenth Street. 

The present Sorolla exhibition in its entirety 
which the artist himself says is the largest and best 
showing of his work ever brought together is to re- 
main in New York only until March 8th, when it 
will be followed by a similar exhibition of the paint- 
ings of another great contemporaneous Spaniard, 
Ignacio Zuloaga. 

Entering the hall of the Hispanic Society, you in- 
stinctively shade your eyes for you seem suddenly 
to be standing in the full blaze of a meridional sun- 
light. Right in front of you stands his young 
majesty, Alfonso XIII, King of Spain, in a gorgeous 
hussar uniform that almost requires to be looked at 
through smoked goggles. 

Above and all around stretches a marvelously ani- 
mated panorama of his kingdom the Spain of to- 
day interspersed with occasional glimpses of the 
romance-land we read of in Cervantes, Balzac, Victor 
Hugo, and Prosper Merimee. Here are portraits of 
royal and noble personages, hidalgos, caballeros, 
grandees, peasants, gipsies, soldiers, sailors, fisher- 
men, statesmen, writers, artists, scientists, queens and 
Carmens, mothers and children the latter mostly 
naked and sun-browned, running along the sea-beach 
of Valencia, or disporting themselves in clear green 
waters through which their bodies glimmer, a revela- 
tion of superb draftsmanship and magical, swift 
brushing in of color white sails flashing on a purple 
sea, Moorish bridges over the storied Tagus, flowers 
and oranges and pomegranates gleaming amidst dark- 
green masses of foliage, love's young dream in pagan 
sunlight and on golden sands, the tender anxious joys 
of motherhood and babyhood, proud old beggar- 
ruffians in ragged cloaks drinking red wine, boat- 
builders, net-menders, and sail-makers on the quays 
or along shore, girls sorting raisins, and the scenes 
and occupations of orchard and grange, contrasted 
with the languorous luxury of aristocratic interiors. 
All these presentments and many more seem to have 
sprung spontaneously from Sorolla's eager brain and 
responsive master hand. 


Here, in fact, is Sorolla's autobiography, vividly 
inscribed in paint. Nine tenths of the scenes are his 
native Valencia or the shores of Biarritz and San 
Sebastian. The charming children are his own, and 
the beautiful senora whom he depicts so often and 
so sympathetically is their mother, Dona Clotilde 
Garcia, the artist's beloved wife. From the intimate 
quality of many of the portraits of high personages 
one might guess what is indeed the fact, that the 
friendship of rank and nobility is Sorolla's at his 
command, while he is still in early middle life (he 
was born in 1863) and in the zenith of his powers. 

No more rapid, sure and vivid painter ever made a 
dash at the problems of light and motion and got 
away with them with such eclat. Sorolla is always 
trying, for the sake of truth and unity of impression, 
to paint a complete picture at a single sitting and 
more often than not he has succeeded in this consum- 
mate tour de force. Ever since as a boyish student 
he painted his first academic picture in the open bull 
ring of Valencia he has been possessed by the passion 
for light and laughter and color. 

Coming in, tired, the other evening for even 
now, here in New York, Sorolla counts that clay lost 
in which he does not achieve six or eight hours' work 
on a portrait or something the impressionable 
Spaniard fairly embraced an otherwise severe and 


2 6 7 


Puerto de Javea 

professional gentleman because he chanced to have 
on a bright red necktie ! 

It was a propitious moment for cigarettes and con- 

"Have you considered," said Senor Sorolla to "The 
World" representative, "why you have such artists as 
Sargent, Chase, and the late Whistler ? It is because 
the real founder of American art was that supreme 
impressionist master, Velazquez. The men I have 
named, like Constable and Turner and Courbet before 
them, seize greatness by that same ecstatic swiftness 
of execution which was the secret of Velazquez's 
splendid triumphs of realism. As for myself, I can 
assure you this lyrical impetuosity came to me as 
naturally as breathing or the beatings of my heart, at 
the earliest dawn of my sympathy with nature. 

"All inspired painters are impressionists, even 
though it be true that some impressionists are not 

"If ever painter wrought a miracle of illusion with 
brush and pigment that painter was Velazquez in his 
'Las Meninas,' at the Prado in Madrid. Now, I 
have studied this picture with a lens, and what do I 
find? Why, that Velazquez got that marvelous at- 
mospheric background by one broad sweep of his 
flowing brush, charged with thin color so thin that 
you can feel the very texture of the canvas through it. 

"Nature, the sun itself, produces color effects on 
this same principle, but instantaneously. The im- 
pression of these evanescent visions is what we make 
desperate attempts to catch and fix by any means at 
hand. At such moments I am unconscious of mate- 
rials, of style, of rules, of everything that intervenes 
between my perception and the object or idea per- 

"No, mes amis, impressionism is not charlatanry, 
nor a formula, nor a school. I should say rather it 
is the bold resolve to throw all those things over- 

By an extraordinary coincidence, which may be- 
come historic, Sargent's wondrous water-colors, no 
less than eighty-six of them, have been shown at 
Knoedler's, simultaneously with the Sorolla exhibi- 
tionand they absolutely confirm the Spaniard's 

Only after contemplating and comparing these two 
epoch-making modern masters, if you should happen 
to look in upon a bunch of Barbizons at Schaus's, or 
even upon the French impressionists at Durand- 
Ruel's, you will be astonished to find how black, how 
positively medieval, the latter appear for the moment 
to your sun-dazzled eyes. 


La Concha, San Sebastian 

San Sebastiar 


San Sebastian 


(The American Art News, February 13, 1909.) 


To this dull art season has suddenly come a sensation 
in the exhibition opened this week at the Hispanic 
Museum of the works of the modern Spanish master, 
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida. While some few Ameri- 
can art lovers and students of contemporary art 
movements in Europe have known of the amazing 
power, color quality, and dramatic strength of So- 
rolla's canvases, few even of these have seen more 
than some scattered examples of his work, while the 
American art public was not prepared for what is a 
virtual revelation in this display. 

There is every evidence that the New York public, 
never indifferent to really great music, art, or litera- 
ture, will respond enthusiastically to the Hispanic 
Society's splendid enterprise in presenting to it the 
work of so great a modern master. 

It is only to be regretted that after its close here 
the exhibition cannot be repeated in the larger cities 
of the country. 

(The American Art News, February 13, 1909.; 


To the credit of busy New York it must be said 
that its more cultivated element has quickly appre- 
ciated the beauty and value of the most remarkable 
and fascinating "one-man" exhibition of pictures 
ever made in this country, and has already begun to 
crowd during the daylight and even evening hours, 
the handsome and artistic museum of the Hispanic 
Society of America in i56th Street. This, with a 
prodigality of expense and great care and taste, 
has been so arranged in its interior for it is 
really a library more than an art gallery so as to 
display the works of the Spanish painter to the best 
advantage, with harmonious coloring of walls, and 
admirable arrangement of lights, both at day and 
evening. The exhibition, which opened on Monday 
last to the public, and which, after its close here on 
March 8th, will go to the Albright Art Gallery at 
Buffalo, to be succeeded by an exhibition of twenty- 
two selected canvases by another great contemporary 
Spanish painter, Ignacio Zuloaga called the Spanish 
Manet and which is now on at Buffalo, is composed 
of 350 numbers, of which over a hundred are small 


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Playa de Valencia 


sketches, but each and every one so characteristic, so 
beautiful in color, so virile and full of sunlight and 
air, as to call for the closest study. 


IT is difficult to restrain a possible exuberance of ex- 
pression, or to qualify one's admiration in attempting 
to describe the art of Sorolla. There are those who 
do not hesitate to place him very close to his early 
predecessor, the great master Velazquez, and who 
say that, except in portraiture, he excels his other 
great predecessor, Goya, but no artist or art lover, 
be he tonalist, impressionist, realist, or romanticist, 
can fail to be at least amazed by the marvelous vi- 
tality and simplicity of the art of Sorolla. He is 
essentially, to give him his definite place, a colorist, 
and he is also a great draftsman, and the most 
successful painter of sunlight, atmosphere, and air 
that possibly the world has ever seen. And his work 
is truthful truthful in drawing, in action, and in 
every detail. Notice the baby boy in "At the Bath," 
"Running Along the Beach," with the movement and 
action of the children and its light and air, and the 
"After the Bath," with the sunlight filtering through 
the white sheet which the boy is holding up over the 
laughing girl in her wet bathing dress. Notice the 

muscles of the straining oxen in the great museum 
picture, which should without question find a resting 
place in our own Metropolitan the color of the sea 
and the movement of the figures. And through it all 
one feels the breeze blow, and is gripped by the dra- 
matic intensity of the scene. 

A brother painter of Sorolla says that he never 
makes a correction in his drawing, and that "he 
paints with the hand of God." Certainly his is in- 
spired art, in that it meets the test of all inspired art 
the power to move, to thrill, to hold, the spectator. 


WHILE as a rule Sorolla paints the joyousness of 
life, the summer and the sun, he can be sad and 
tragic, too, and in this very versatility he evinces his 
deep sympathy with humanity in its sufferings, as 
well as in its joys. One of the most moving pictures 
in the world certainly one of the most impressive 
of modern masterpieces of art is "The Sad Inheri- 
tance," that canvas fortunately owned by the Church 
of the Ascension in this city, which depicts a group of 
naked laughing urchins sporting in the surf on the 
Valencia beach, while in the foreground four little 
cripples, also nude and desirous of a bath, are pre- 

27 8 


San Sebastiar 

Playa cle Valenci 

vented by their infirmities from joining their fellows. 
One poor boy, supported by crutches, bows his head 
and weeps, while a kindly young priest in attendance 
lays his hand sadly and in sorrowing sympathy on 
his head. 


IT is as a portrait-painter that Sorolla appears to less 
advantage. He could not paint a bad portrait, for 
he draws too well and correctly, and his color is too 
good to allow even this artistic Homer to nod to any 
extent, but with the exception of his sketch of the 
young King of Spain (the half-length, not the full- 
length, which is not so good), and the life-size, full- 
length seated portrait of his fellow-painter, Madrazo, 
his portraits are not convincing, while that of the 
young Queen of Spain, in white satin with an ermine 
cloak, is distinctly hard. But the portraits need not 
detain one there is too much to see and admire in 
the painter's other works. 


A WORD in closing as to the life history of the modest 
little middle-aged man, born in Valencia, Spain, only 
forty-seven years ago, and who, now here, bids fair 

to become a lion against his will. He was left an 
orphan when only two years old, adopted by an aunt, 
the wife of a locksmith, and spent his time making 
drawings in copy books. Although he was taken 
away from school and placed by his uncle in the 
latter's workshop, he was permitted to attend draw- 
ing classes, and when fifteen to study art. He en- 
tered the academy at Valencia, and at once won the 
prize for color, drawing, and perspective. A Senor 
Garcia became interested in the boy and paid his way 
for several years in the academy. The painter after- 
ward married his patron's daughter. His pictures 
attracted no attention when first exhibited, but the 
"Second of May," a scene of the Spanish War of 
Independence, and painted in the open air, when 
shown at Madrid, brought him fame. Then he went 
to Rome on a scholarship and afterward to Paris. 
When his "Fishing Boats Returning" was purchased 
for the Luxembourg from the Salon, he first reached 
universal fame. Since then he has gone on conquer- 
ing and to conquer. 

The exhibition is not only, as said above, a revela- 
tion, but is the most important and interesting event 
of the present art season. 


San Sebastian 


San Sebastian 


Playa de Valencia 


Playa de Valencia 


(From an article in the New-Yorker Staats-Zeitung, February 

14, 1909, entitled "Die hispanische Gesellschaft von 

Amerika. Von A. von Ende.") 

... So war mir das Ziel dieses Unternehmens 
klar geworden und ich war kaum davon iiberrascht, 
dass die Gesellschaft in ihren Bemiihungen das Ver- 
standnis hispanischer Kultur zu f ordern, es auch unter- 
nommen. uns mit der modernen spanischen Kunst 
bekannt zu rnachen. Es war eine gliickliche Idee, die 
Herrn Huntington veranlasste, zur Einfuhrung in 
dieselbe Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida zu wahlen, dessen 
Kunst weniger die dem Auslander sattsam bekann- 
ten und ihm gewaltsam erscheinenden Ausserungen 
des Nationaltemperaments, als das ruhig dahinglei- 
tende Alltagsleben des Durchschnittsvolkes darstellt. 
Keine Stierkampfe, keinen Torreador, keine Carmen 
sieht man auf den Bildern, die wahrend des am 8. 
Marz ablaufenden Monats an Stelle der oben er- 
wahnten Gemalde getreten sind. Hat die Zeit jene 
nachgedunkelt und sie zu typischen Dokumenten der 
Vergangenheit gemacht, so geniigt jetzt ein einziger 
Blick in den Ausstellungssaal, einem den Eindruck 
neuen, bliihenden, sonnigen, farbenfrischen Gegen- 
wartlebens zu ubermitteln. Der kiinstlerische Werth 
der Ausstellung ist ein ungleicher. Es ist zu viel da, 

und mancherlei Unfertiges, das in des Kiinstlers Ate- 
lier hatte bleiben konnen. Aber der lichte, sonnige 
Charakter, die naive Freude am rein Thatsachlichen 
und Greifbaren, die diesen Bildern eigen, beriihrt 
einen wie frischer Seewind oder wie scharfe Hohen- 
luft. Man ist versucht, hinter dieser Kunst eine bei- 
nahe robuste Gesundheit und ein sanguinisches Tem- 
perament zu vermuthen, der die Erscheinung und 
Personlichkeit des mit seiner Gattin nach New York 
gekommenen Kiinstlers kaum entspricht, wohl aber 
besteht eine innige Beziehung zwischen des Kiinstlers 
schlichter, ruhiger Sprechweise und der einfachen, 
man mochte beinahe sagen, sachlichen Sprache, die 
sein Pinsel fiihrt. 

Es ist in dieser Anhaufung von Bildern eine iiber- 
raschende Mannigfaltigkeit an Motiven aus dem 
Leben der Durchschnittsmenschheit. Seilbinder, 
Heuernte in Asturien, Traubenbriihen, Einziehen der 
Segel, Riickkehr vom Fischfang, Krabbenfischer, 
Segelflicken, Rosinenpacken, Trocknen der Netze, 
Schwimmer, Badende und zwischen durch und iiber- 
all Kinder, spielende, badende, feierlich bekleidete 
und paradiesisch nackte Kinder. Stellte man alle 
diese Kinderbilder zusammen, so ergabe sich ein far- 
bengliihender, sonnenlichter, sinnesfreudiger Hymnus 
auf die Fruchtbarkeit, vor einer beinahe primitiven 

Frische und Urspriinglichkeit. Einige dieser Kinder- 
gestalten sind kostlich in Zeichnung wie Farbe. Mit 
Ausnahme der Portraits ist nirgends auch nur der 
geringste Versuch gemacht, der Natur durch Kompo- 
sition nachzuhelfen. Es sind beinahe wortliche Uber- 
tragungen der Wirklichkeit und es ist eine heitere, 
lebensfrohe Wirklichkeit. Nur einmal beriihrt der 
Kunstler die Tragik des Menschenlebens, von der die 
Kindheit nicht verschont ist, in dem grossen Ge- 
malde, das in dem kleineren Nebenraum hangt und 
"Ein trauriges Erbe" genannt ist. Da stehen an dem 
Strande von Valencia, dessen Wasser in den iibrigen 
Bildern so sonnig durchleuchtet sind, hier aber eine 
beinahe bleierne diistere Farbung haben, die freud- 
losen, verkriippelten und verwaisten Kinder eines 
Asyls unter Aufsicht des schiitzenden Priesters ein 
Bild trostlosen, erschiitternden Elends. Sonst sieht 
der Kunstler nur mit dem Auge des Malers, der die 
sich ihm darbietende Natur, die Wirklichkeit wieder- 
giebt; hier aber hat das Herz des Menschenfreundes 

Sorolla erinnert einen an das Wort des franzosi- 
schen Kritikers, der von Velazquez gesagt : "Le 
peintre, le plus peintre qui fut jamais." und man 
mochte hinzufiigen "et rien que peintre." Denn er 
ist Maler und nichts als Maler ; weder Denker noch 
Dichter, weder Prediger noch Fantast: weder Ro- 

mantiker noch Problematiker. Er griibelt nicht, er 
schaut und malt. Er berechnet vielleicht nicht ein- 
mal seine Wirkungen, so unbekiimmert, so keck, 
scheint alles au-f die Leinwand hingeworfen. Seine 
Farbenskala ist auf wenige Tone beschrankt; Xuan- 
cen kennt er nicht. Er hat keine komplizirte moderne 
Psyche. Oder aber er will nur das Einfache in 
Lebensausserungen und menschlichen Empfindungen 
sehen und alles Sensitive und Raffinirte vermeiden. 
Es ist als ob dieser Moderne gegen Vieles protestirte, 
was man modern nennt, und was in der That eine 
durchaus naturliche kiinstlerische Ausserung in der 
gegenwartigen Generation schlummernder Gedanken 
und sich durch ganze Schichten der Menschheit hin- 
ziehender Gefiihlsstromungen ist. Es liegt wie Be- 
jahung des materiellen, gesund sinnlichen Lebens in 
alien diesen Strandbildern mit spielenden Kindern, 
mit lustwandelnden Madchen und Jiinglingen, mit 
Badenden und Schwimmern. Es liegt sogar viel- 
leicht ein philosophisches Sichfugen in das Unaban- 
derliche in den Volksszenen, den Interieurs, wo die 
Frauen iiber die Arbeit gebeugt dasitzen und in jenen 
Kustenbildern, wo Mensch und Vieh mit Anstren- 
gung aller ihrer Kraft sich der Brandling entgegen- 
stemmen. Auch in den Landschaften, die in der 
Sammlung an Zahl schwach vertreten sind, spiirt 
man nichts davon, dass der Kiinstler sich etwa be- 

Xifio desnudo, Granja 


Senora de Sorolla (negro) 

miiht habe, diese oder jene Stimmung hervorzu- 
bringen. Und doch liegt in manchen derselben 
Stimmung, und hatte durch feinere Nuancirung wir- 
kungsvoll hervorgehoben warden und auf den 
Beschauer riickwirken konnen. Einzelne Portraits 
zeugen von Scharfblick fur das Wesentliche und 
Charakteristische. Das lebensgrosse Bild der Dame 
in Schwarz ist ein Beispiel ; das Portrait der Infanta 
Isabel ein noch bedeutenderes. Hingegen kommen 
die Majestaten bei Signer Sorolla wie so haufig in 
den Portraits selbst der grossten Meister weniger 
gut davon. Man kann sich nichts Nichtssagenderes 
vorstellen als die Bilder der beiden koniglichen 

Die Ausstellung, die zur Zeit eine Menge von Be- 
suchern nach dem Gebaude zieht, von dessen Existenz 
sie vielleicht keine Ahnung gehabt haben, hinterlasst 
einen lichten, frischen Eindruck. Sie ist geeignet, 
einem anschaulich zu machen, dass Spanien nicht das 
Land mondsuchtiger Romantik und auch nicht das 
Land blutiger Volksbelustigungen ist, wie man es 
sich gern vorstellt. Die grosse Masse des Volkes ist 
iiberall gesund und bleibt sich uberall gleich. In 
gewisser Beziehung ist dies eine trostliche Erkennt- 

(The Newark Evening News, February 20, 1909.) 


IT grieves The Optimist to report that he has found 
nothing in the galleries to compare with Sorolla's 
work, but he is comforted by his optimism. It will 
not always be so. That great gladness of color that 
is Sorolla's! it is wonderful. He is one of the few 
great living painters, and, happily, the exhibition of 
his paintings at the Hispanic Museum, I56th street, 
near the Subway station, will be continued until 
March 8th. 

The Optimist would like to linger long enough to 
outline Sorolla's artistic pedigree, but that is impossi- 
ble to-day. Biographical details will be found in the 
introduction to the catalogue. Bastien-Lepage and 
Menzel affected Sorolla profoundly, but he also went 
to Barbizon. He sprang from the loins of Velazquez 
and Goya. Strongly influenced by many individuals, 
he has an individuality of his own ; an eclectic, choos- 
ing method and technic where he will, he makes his 
own school. But let us not labor over the causes that 
made him great; let us enjoy what we are privileged 
to enjoy. 

Sorolla is a painter of the world that he sees : a 

Excelentisimo Seiior Duque de Alba 

great impressionist, a true realist. And he has a 
happy habit of looking at the world in which the sun 
shines. It is possible to stretch this claim so as to 
cover "The Sad Inheritance." In the foreground is 
the beach at Valencia. For the moment the happy chil- 
dren, fisherfolks and sail-sewers have been banished. 
A score or so of imbecile or crippled boys the ana- 
tomical deformities are superbly mastered the 
cast-off children of depraved and unknown parents, 
huddle about the good priest whose life is consecrated 
to the alleviation of the sufferings caused by the sins 
of the parents. For the joyless child, denied the 
gaiety of healthy boyhood, there is some one that 
cares, and Sorolla could not paint the sorrow of it 
without putting the solace into the very center. 

But that is not the sunshine that characterizes his 
work. It is the light that rays from Old Sol himself. 
"In order to express the subtle yet intense vibrations 
of the sunlight," Bereute says, "Sorolla sometimes 
uses crisp, small touches of the brush, though not in 
the extravagant fashion of the French impressionists. 
He saw and absorbed all that is healthy in the various 
phases of impressionism; and so, in painting land- 
scape, he banishes from his palette black or blackish, 
non-transparent colors, such as were formerly in 
vogue for rendering shadow. But, on the other hand, 

[255 ] 

his canvases contain a great variety of blues and vio- 
lets balanced and juxtaposed with reds and yellows. 
These, and the skilful use of white, provide him with 
a color scheme of great simplicity, originality, and 

The color the translucent color of Sorolla is 
tremendous, but what a shame it is that no gallery is 
at hand that provides proper distance. Take No. 72, 
"Helen Among the Roses," for an illustration. It 
makes no appeal whatever until it is glimpsed from 
the upper gallery this is the best place from which 
to view them all and then it is a vision that woos 
by the great loveliness of its color. 

But we must make a systematic beginning. His 
portraiture is excellent, almost without exception. It 
compels one to believe, without knowledge, that the 
likenesses are accurate. Looking at No. 88, "In the 
Gardens of La Granja," from the other end of the 
museum, The Optimist mistook the woman in the pic- 
ture for a spectator, and this quality of boldness is 
ever apparent. 

The portrait of her Majesty the Queen of Spain 
is done like a miniature, with a wonderful soft, red 
background of inestimable values. The smaller por- 
trait of the infant Prince of Asturias is especially 
pleasing, a charming thing with the qualities of a 

Despues del bano 


water color. Except for the portraits of Senora So- 
rolla, No. V, "Her Royal Highness Dona Ysabel de 
Borbon," is more imposing than any other in the exhi- 
bition. Sorolla has a great facility for reproducing 
fabrics that is manifest not only in the portraits. His 
gossamer and diaphanous effects, the wet, clinging 
garments of the children and the bathers sublimate 
realism. The Optimist liked the picture of the Mother 
and Child in bed. It is simply a gray canvas with the 
dark heads against pillows and counterpane and with 
the mother's outstretched arm. O ye who have babes 
of your own ! this is maternity, this is childhood. 

Sorolla must love children. On canvas after can- 
vas they romp along the beach, dive in the water, or 
sprawl on the sands in the sunshine. The water is 
too clear to obscure their submerged limbs and bodies. 
What action there is in them ! the awkwardness and 
the grace of childhood ! Better still, its wholesome, 
unconscious innocence : as if the serpent had never 
entered the Garden. They are beautifully unashamed. 

No. 104, "The Little Girl with Blue Ribbon," will 
never tire you, never cease to please. With artless 
grace the little girl such a dainty child, as all little 
girls ought to be stands out in the sunshine on 
Valencia's beach. And she stands out, too, as real, 
as natural as life and sunshine. Nearby hangs No. 


68, "Taking in the Sail." The face, the red turban, 
the white sail, all gleam in the sunshine that comes to 
his brush so irresistibly. 

There seems to be no limit to Sorolla's variety and 
his industry has furnished an impulse to artists. It 
is almost always the light that allures. In the Garden 
of the Alcazar, beating against the white walls and 
columns of a farmhouse, dancing in the water, play- 
ing hide-and-seek through the foliage, glancing from 
the body of some lightly-clad child, penetrating sheer 
fabrics and pattering hot upon the sands ; always the 
sunshine. He is a painter of glad, joyous, free- 
hearted, exuberant life. Now r how could an optimist 
fail to be enthusiastic over all this? Sincerity, actu- 
ality, sympathy, and swiftness are the qualities of his 
work that make it real and lasting and human. 

No, there is not all the finish you may think you 
wish, all the avoidance of sketchiness. Sorolla him- 
self says: "I feel that if I painted slowly, I positively 
could not paint at all." He catches the infinite transi- 
tions of light and shade and atmosphere and, to ren- 
der them, he must work with infinite rapidity. This 
is one of the great secrets of his power and his 


(The Call. New York, February 25, 1909.) 


THE chill of our gray winter days is soon dispelled 
before the pictures of Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, at 
the Hispanic Museum, 1561!! Street and Broadway. 

Sorolla loves the shine of the scorching Spanish 
sun ; he loves the wind which caresses the little chil- 
dren who bask in the sun and display their nude 
bodies, and it is here that he is happiest. The children 
frolic, the wind and sea frolic, and the painter plies 
his brush in perfect sympathy with that frolic. 

Not that the sterner moods of life fail to fall under 
his versatile and dexterous brush. The Spanish sea- 
man, bronzed and sturdy, the weary peasant, the way- 
farer, the statesman, the scholar, the soldier, are all 
"game" to him. 

In his struggle for life this Spaniard has met and 
known them all intimately. No mere fantasy on his 
part. He was the son of humble peasants of Valen- 
cia, Spain, who died of cholera two years after Joa- 
quin was born. He was adopted by his aunt, the 
wife of a locksmith. 

The boy's incorrigible love for drawing interfered 

with his work at school and the futile task of edu- 
cating him was abandoned. He was put to work in 
the shops of his uncle and during the evenings at- 
tended a local art school. The hopeless pupil proved 
so apt a draftsman that he was taken from the 
shop and placed in the Academia de Bellas Artes of 
San Carlos. Success followed, and in his rise 
through life he encountered all of the classes and 
kinds of people that he has painted. 

But his greatest sympathy, one can readily see, lies 
with those from whom he came. Every mood and 
occupation of theirs is known to him. As fishermen 
he knows them best. But not only men sea, sky and 
earth, trees and beasts ; in fact, all that the sun lights 
on, he paints. Sea and sky, earth and rocks are 
enough for him, as in Nos. 13 and 17. Even the hot 
sun he often dispenses with, as in the two little gray 
landscapes, poems in paint, Nos. 24 and 33. Here 
sun is unnecessary. A deep slope, splashed with 
flowers, a forest at the bottom of the hill, a patch of 
sky and the thing is complete. 

In his sunlight pictures, sun and atmosphere change 
with the theme he paints. Lurid and harsh is Old 
Sol when he throws his rays on the men "Beaching 
the Boat" (318). The sail of the boat is painful 
and blinding; the bodies of the oxen clumsy and 


Excelentisimo Senor Conde de Villagonzalo 

heavy, as in nature. But when the sun lights on the 
backs of nude tots lying or playing on the beach, 
wading or swimming, or on slightly-clad boys and 
girls running along the beach, it is delicate and de- 

This love for the sun is unique. It reveals a man 
of sunny temperament. It is a physical sun, unlike 
the sun of Rembrandt, which was used to pierce 
shadowy gloom and reveal the torment of the artist's 
soul. Sorolla is not spiritual in that sense. Nor does 
he clamor for the ideal. On the contrary, he is 
poignantly real, showing to man the delights of this 
beautiful world. 

He is alienated from past traditions in art. His 
works are no mere arrangements in line, color, or 
mass. He does not seem to compose, Nature com- 
poses for him. With her he is in absolute sympathy. 
He paints rapidly, passionately, suggestively the Spain 
he knows and loves. All is Spanish in the exhibit. 
His craft is big, vigorous, and healthy, ' sacrificing 
detail for mass, but never missing the salient features 
which make character. In this rendition he is won- 
derful, often sustaining himself thereby when his 
color is not so fortunate as in some of his indoor 

The portrait of his wife in black dress (288) 

is perhaps the best example of subtile painting in the 
whole exhibition. The figure of the charming woman 
is slightly posed and the canvas is somewhat "ar- 
ranged," but I know of few modern pictures that are 
more delicately modeled; especially the head, which 
is a marvel of sympathetic painting. So, also, is his 
"Senorita Dona Maria Sorolla." Here he cajoled 
the brush into slipping one form into another. It is 
snappy, crisp, and lovely. Numbers of portraits 
other than these grace the walls of the museum and 
attest the skill of the artist. 

In his "Valencian Fisherwomen" (84), some- 
thing more than skill and character is felt. The 
painter is free again. The picture is filled with glo- 
rious sunlight alighting on the gossiping women and 
on the boats in back of them. Here, as in his 
"Beach of Valencia by Morning Light" (307), one is 
drawn into the actual. In the latter canvas we envy 
the youngsters divested of their clothes and bathing 
in the water or broiling their wet bodies in sunshine. 

The breeze blows hard on the sails yonder, the 
water rolls on the beach. The canvas is full of humor, 
the stubborn little nudity in the foreground refuses to 
be lifted off the sand to the delight of all concerned. 
The fresh morning air is cool and inviting. Its 
humor recalls to one "Playing in the Water" 
(306). Here the tenderness of childhood is treated. 

The little babe is altogether at the mercy of the older 
playmate, but was never in more loving hands. 


PERHAPS the most delightful of these sunlight pic- 
tures is the one called a "Sea Idyl," a song of sun- 
shine and youth. Two children, a boy and a girl, 
lie at the edge of the water, lolling in the calm, soft 
air. He, less timid than she, is almost completely 
immersed, contented with the roll of the warm water 
over his body. She but touches the water with her 
legs, to which a wet garment clings tightly. The 
forms of the soft flesh lose and find themselves in the 
light, and Sorolla has followed carefully these notes 
which interpret that action of light on form. 

This suggestive modeling is one of the great 
problems of modern painting that the Spaniard has 
conquered. The drawing of the two figures is strong 
and true, and a light, airy color tones the canvas. 
The charming childishness of both children chatting 
with each other throws off for a moment thought of 
the suffering children we know. 


BUT Sorolla, the seeker of the actual, in his love for 
healthy children, happily situated, the glowing sun 


and frolicking sea and wind, has not forgotten the 
water over which the wind is hushed, the sky heavy 
laden, the sun cool, the children whose sad inheritance 
it is to be crippled or imbecile. 

His "Sad Inheritance" (350) is a picture of a 
priest guarding a lot of deformed boys at their bath. 
His duty it is to take the place of the lost mother 
and to substitute motherly care. The figure of the 
noble priest, with black robe pitched against a dark 
and somber sea, occupies a goodly part of the fore- 
ground of the picture. He leads one badly deformed 
child and several others follow. Their nude bodies 
are lighted by the sun, but it is a sad sun, bland, mak- 
ing us almost forget the sense of the outdoor. Cool 
shadows, taking on reflections, increase the depressing 
spirit of the canvas. Blank miles of quiet water 
stretch out before us. The limitless sea loses itself 
in darkness. Gently it rolls its waves in on the bath- 
ers as though careful of the figures that are unable to 
frolic along the beach or in its waters. They, many 
with crutches to support them, move painfully and 
slowly. The head of the priest, barely touched by 
light, looks down at the cripple he is leading. Tightly 
he holds his charge, whose misshapen leg and torse 
show his sad inheritance. 

Need we speak of the technical virtues of this can- 

vas, which Sorolla has done with a sympathy and re- 
serve nowhere surpassed in this collection of pictures ? 
And as for motif here, it is shadow touched by 
gloomy light, as though to complement the spirit of 
the exhibition. 

Of all the 350 paintings not one is more popular; 
no other but this destroys whatever happiness we may 


(The Independent, February 25, 1909.) 


NEW YORK has been made to realize two things this 
month, of which most of its citizens were before 
unaware. One -was the existence and charm of the 
building in West I56th Street of the Hispanic So- 
ciety of America, founded on good broad lines for 
the furtherance of our knowledge of things Span- 
ish, and the other is the existence which this 
Society again has enabled us to appreciate of a 
mighty descendant of the seventeenth-century artists 
of Spain in the person of Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida. 
The work of Sorolla shows influence from the 
great naturalistic wave in French nineteenth-century 

art but obviously Velazquez himself was very seri- 
ously studied by this modern master of other know- 
ledge unknown to Velazquez. Knowledge of light 
and movement above all. No photograph can give a 
true idea of the brilliant technic of this man, whose 
eye seizes and whose hand fixes almost instantly all 
the movements and colors and characters to be seen 
in his country, especially by its seas. His vision is 
always clear, and poetic only as poetry dwells in his 
subject matter always; yet his things have other 
depth of splendidly virile achievements and of his 
school he has no rivals. In portraiture one is tempted 
to compare him with Sargent and to feel some 
similarity in points of view, but probably his best 
portraits are not here, while his best genre works are. 
Never has the mother just after the birth of her 
child been so touchingly painted as in the large, quiet 
toned canvas, showing only the expanse of white 
covered bed, with the two heads appearing. The 
only darker spots, the mother's head turned in, are 
toward the wee mite, with eyes tightly shut. Seldom 
has the horror of deformity been so intensely painted 
as in the sad colored "Sad Inheritance," with its 
foreground group of crippled boys led down to the 
sea by the strong, stern priest, whom yet we feel is 
sympathetic, though we can see only his back. A 

third large canvas, called in English "Oxen Preparing 
to Beach Fishing Boats," is as different again as 
possible, and such an absolutely true rendering of 
one of the sturdiest of activities for men, beasts, and 
boats, that it fairly excites one, as would the scene 
itself. Then there are beautiful landscapes and many 
small sketches of the swimming and wading joys of 
young boys and girls he paints so often merrily, 
gracefully, strongly, or in whatever mood the scene 
presented itself. 

A portrait of Madrazo, the painter, in his garden 
is an exceedingly beautiful thing, but the large royal 
portraits lack sincerity, as it seems royal portraits 
must, though a small one of King Alfonso is char- 
acteristic and consequently convincingly ugly. The 
exhibition will remain open until March 8th, when it 
will be succeeded by a showing of work by another 
Spaniard, Zuloaga. 

(The Literary Digest, February 27, 1909.) 


SPAIN is vigorously contesting with Germany for 
American admiration of her contemporary art. Vis- 
itors to the galleries in New York now divide their 

attention between the German exhibition at the 
Metropolitan and the works of the Spanish master 
Sorolla y Bastida at the Hispanic Museum. Three 
hundred and fifty specimens of this artist's work are 
shown, and critics and admirers are applauding the 
joyous, vital, sunny spirit of this man who chiefly 
paints sunshine and love, the frolics of children, and 
the play of the waves on the seashore. "No one who 
appreciates great painting," says the critic of the 
New York "Evening Post," "should miss seeing this 
exhibition, for Sorolla is a very great painter; not 
one of his brother artists, not one amateur of art who 
has seen his work, but ranks him among the greatest 
painters of the day." The painter tells you that he 
hates darkness. "Claude Monet once said that paint- 
ing in general did not have light enough in it. I 
agree with him. We painters, however, can never 
reproduce sunlight as it really is. I can only approach 
the truth of it." Mr. Huneker, in "The Sun" (New 
York), looks upon him as "the painter of sunshine 
without equal." Admitting no "mincing of com- 
parisons," he asserts that "not Turner, not Monet, 
painted so directly blinding shafts of sunshine as has 
this Spaniard." Of his method Mr. Huneker writes: 

"After years of labor he has achieved a personal 
vision. It is so completely his that to copy it \vould 


be to perpetrate a burlesque. He employs the divi- 
sional fetches of Monet, spots, cross-hatchings, big, 
saberlike strokes a la John Sargent, indulges in 
smooth sinuous silhouettes, or huge splotches, re- 
fulgent patches, explosions, vibrating surfaces; sur- 
faces that are smooth and oily, surfaces, as in his 
waters, that are exquisitely translucent. You can't 
pin him clown to a particular formula. His technic 
in other hands would be coarse, crashing, brassy, 
bald, and too fortissimo. It is not any of these, 
though it is too often deficient in the finer modula- 
tions. He makes one forget this synthetic technic by 
his entrain, sincerity, and sympathy with his subject. 
Apart from his luscious, tropical color he is a sober 
narrator of facts. Ay, but he is a big chap, this 
amiable little Valencian with a big heart and a hand 
that reaches out and grabs down clouds, skies, scoops 
up the sea, and sets running, wriggling, screaming 
a joyful band of naked boys and girls over the 
golden summer sands in a sort of ecstatic symphony 
of pantheism. Imagine Walt Whitman (omitting 
the 'Children of Adam'), Walt when he evokes a 
mass of animated youth, and you will faintly gather 
the rich colored rhythms of Seiior Sorolla's pictures." 

Mr. Huneker thrusts in a caution against suppos- 
ing that because of Sorolla's "enormous brio his 
general way of entrapping nature is brutal." We get 
some further ideas of what appeals to him, and how 

he stands in relation to a fellow-painter, Zuloaga, 
whose work is to follow his at the same place of ex- 
hibition : 

"He is masculine and absolutely free from the 
neurasthenic morbidezsa of his fellow-countryman, 
Zuloaga. (And far from attaining that painter's 
inches as a psychologist.) For the delineation of 
moods nocturnal, of poetic melancholy, of the con- 
templative aspect of life we must not go to Sorolla. 
He is not a thinker. He is the painter of bright 
mornings and brisk salt breezes. He is half Greek. 
There is Winckelmann's Heiterkeit, blitheness, in his 
groups of romping children, in their unashamed 
bare skins and naive attitudes. Boys on Valencian 
beaches evidently believe in Adamic undress. Nor 
do the girls seem to care. Stretched upon his stomach 
on the beach, a youth, straw-hatted, stares at the 
spume of the rollers. His companion is not so un- 
conventionally disarrayed, and as she has evidently 
not eaten of the poisonous apple of wisdom she is 
free from embarrassment. Balzac's two infants, 
innocent of their sex, could not be less carefree than 
the Sorolla children. How tenderly, sensitively he 
models the hardly nubile forms of maidens ! The 
movement of their legs as they race the strand, their 
dash into the water, or their nervous pausing at the 
rim of the wet here is poetry for you, the poetry of 
glorious days in youthland. Curiously enough his 
types are for the most part more international than 

racial; that is, racial as are Zuloaga's Basque brig- 
ands, manolas, and gipsies. 

""But only this ? Can't he paint anything but mas- 
sive oxen wading to their buttocks in the sea ; or 
fisher-boats with swelling sails blotting out the hori- 
zon; or a girl after a dip standing, as her boyish 
cavalier covers her with a robeyou see the clear 
pink flesh through her garb; or vistas of flower- 
gardens with roguish maidens and courtly parks ; 
peasants harvesting, working women sorting raisins ; 
sailors mending nets, boys at rope-makingis all this 
great art? Where are the polished surfaces of the 
cultured studio worker ; where the bric-a-brac which 
we inseparably connect with pseudo-Spanish art? 
You will not find any of them. Sorolla with good 
red blood in his veins, the blood of a great, misunder- 
stood race, paints what he sees on the top of God's 
earth. He is not a book- but a nature-poet ; not a vir- 
tuoso of the brush but a normal man of genius. He 
is in love with light, and by his treatment of relative 
values creates the illusion of sun-flooded landscapes. 
He does not cry for the 'sun,' as did Oswald Alving; 
it comes to him at the beckoning of his brush. His 
limitations are but the defects of his good qualities. 
Let us not expect a Zuloaga when we have a Sorolla. 
Zuloaga comes to us soon; and as Goethe said of 
Schiller and himself, 'Germany ought to be proud of 
two such big fellows.' This remark applies to Spain, 
Sorolla, and Zuloaga as well." 

One picture in the collection strikes another note 
"the one sad picture of the collection." In "The 
Evening Post" we read of it : 

"It is called Triste Herencia' ('Sad Inheritance'), 
and belongs to John E. Berwind. It hung in the 
Sunday-school room of the Church of the Ascension, 
on Fifth Avenue; yet few knew that New York pos- 
sessed this masterpiece. The 'sad inheritance' has 
come to a number of crippled or imbecile boys who 
are being watched over by a priest as they take their 
bath on the beach at Valencia that has lost all the 
gladsomeness of Sorolla's other beach pieces. Here 
again the artist displays his marvelous powers of 
draftsmanship. There is a boy in the right-hand cor- 
ner of the picture shading his eyes from the sun, the 
modeling of whose figure simply indicated by the 
shadow on his stomach is quite extraordinary, and 
that of other boys on crutches is no less remarkable." 

(The Cincinnati Times-Star, February 27, 1909.) 


IF it were possible to write an adequate account of the 
Sorolla exhibition, it would be of doubtful kindness 
to any one who was not to see the pictures. It would 

[304 ] 

simply make such an one disgusted with fate and the 
writer for creating a hunger not to be satisfied. 
Three hundred and fifty paintings, big and little, all 
by one man, all in one building, and not an uninter- 
esting one in the lot! Standing in the presence of 
this amazing display, it is impossible for any one with 
a grain of art in his nature to remain unmoved. If 
you have never cared for pictures before, here is the 
provocation for an awakening. But if you are al- 
ready infatuated with things beautiful, have a care 
how you drink of the wine of life which this wonder- 
ful Spaniard offers you. 

Surrounded by the pictures, it is impossible to think 
or talk in moderation. It goes to the head instantly 
with the finest of intoxications. Here is the work of 
a man surcharged with the joy of things and of life 
to an unparalleled degree. So many people coming 
into the room exclaim : "Why, I had no idea it was 
like this. It 's not like anything I ever saw before. 
Just look at the color. Look at that girl coming out 
of the water, and see those boats; why he paints 
landscapes, too, and the portrait of the King. Why 
he paints everything. What a cunning baby!" 

This is an excerpt merely. What Sorolla has not 
recorded of life would be hard to tell. He is one of 
the most comprehensive, omniverous. and artistically 


successful painters the world has ever seen. Until 
this showing of his work, but very few in America 
knew him, even by name. The present exhibition is 
beyond all manner of doubt one of the most important 
events in our entire art history. When one realizes 
that the pictures are assembled here for only a period 
of a few weeks, it incites to further extravagances of 
thought. For instance, that the nation should rise en 
masse, purchase the entire collection as the greatest 
lesson in art it has ever had, and then delegate its 
most alluring orator to call upon Senor Sorolla and 
persuade him that he could find a congenial working 
home in America. So we should be in a fair way to 
be born again, to assure for America a true renais- 
sance. It is heart-breaking to think of this oppor- 
tunity for development, for intellectual advancement, 
for riding the crest of the highest tide of life, slipping 
away from us. At most only a few thousand souls 
will read this sermon in paint, \vhere millions should 
have the benefit of it. I am a peaceably inclined citi- 
zen, but truly the situation stirs within me feelings 
which point to the probability that some of my for- 
bears were pirates. 

Sorolla is a man who, as we express it in this coun- 
try, has made himself. Heaven knows he had good 
raw material to work with. He was born in 1863 in 

Valencia. It is a strong argument in favor of not 
having circumstances too easy in this life that he 
began and struggled through many of his earlier 
years with very little beside his genius. He was born 
neither to wealth nor position, and to complicate mat- 
ters, was left an orphan at two years of age. He was 
taken in charge by an uncle and aunt, and sent to 
school. There he showed a greater gift for making 
scrawls of pictures on his books than for profiting by 
them in the way they were intended. It seems hard 
to believe, but it is a fact that his teacher had the 
brains to encourage, or at least tolerate this form of 
waywardness, and so did his guardians. At fifteen 
years of age they took him out of school and gave 
him all the help their moderate circumstances made 
possible toward an art career. Sorolla rewarded this 
insight by early winning prizes. A scholarship finally 
took him to Rome, and later he went to Paris. But 

"In spite of all temptations 
To belong to other nations," 

he remains most emphatically a Spaniard, and his 
talent is devoted to a comprehensive portrait of his 
home country and its people. 

His overwhelming fecundity indicates at once cer- 
tain characteristics of his art. First, in technic, a 
great breadth and swiftness; second, an immense 


sympathy with the game of life and its players. His 
great passion is sunshine. He is exuberant, keen, 
tender, whimsical, brusque, philosophic, but always 
strong and impeccably frank. It is unnecessary to 
add that he is original. 

His pictures are shown in the beautiful patio of 
the Hispanic Society. This organization invited 
Senor Sorolla to be its guest and to show this large 
collection, in the desire to bring about a more inti- 
mate understanding of the Spanish people by those of 
America. The hosts must feel very content with the 
welcome of appreciation which their generosity has 
brought forth. 

Sorolla has the rare gift possessed by some speak- 
ers of getting his idea before you in the simplest and 
quickest way. His pictures indicate at once that he 
has an idea ; and they do not cover the idea up with a 
mass of pictorial verbiage. You know what he is 
talking about, you recognize promptly that it is just 
what you want to know, and he does not bother you 
with those by-products of intellectual gymnastics 
which cover up, instead of uncovering, the idea. It is 
an art without a grain of affectation. He never lays 
on a stroke of paint to make you think he is showing 
off. And he does n't make one canvas try to do the 
work of half a dozen. 

That, of course, does not mean he is understood by 
everybody, for we are not by nature very simple in 
the artistic sense. The taste for simplicity is a thing 
often to be acquired. Some people want a painting 
to tell them all the facts, much after the fashion of a 
photograph. But then there are those who will sit 
down and peruse the dictionary for diversion, instead 
of a good yarn. "He 's an impressionist," say these 
votaries of truth ; and the whole truth, be it noted. 

Sorolla is indeed an impressionist, and a fine one, 
too. "These paintings," said a lady who, by the 
way, is a well-known artist, "are plans for pictures." 
Certain spots and lines here and there on the can- 
vases disturbed her, where things had smeared a little, 
bent a little out of good drawing, or were left frankly 
unfinished. She resented these, just as she would 
doubtless resent that a fine orator should make a slip 
of grammar, or repeat a word, catch his breath, or 
clear his throat. A devotion to details which have no 
bearing on the point at issue the thought being 
presented is a mental cerecloth. 

If much is left out of these canvases it is only that 
other facts may appear with greater emphasis, that 
the imagination of the beholder may gather some 
momentum from that of the artist. Whatever is told 
is given with such virility, brilliancy, and precision 

that even the most unwilling to believe can not say 
that it is necessary to write "cow" under any picture 
Sorolla intends for "cow." And if he paints one 
purple he 's apt to convince you. 

Sorolla has the gift of making you feel at home 
wherever he leads the way, on the shore among the 
boats with fisherman and bathers, in the fields and 
cities of Spain, with peasants and grandees, or across 
lonely mountain passes. He introduces you to the 
most vividly painted and varied personalities in his 
portraits. He appears to understand every kind of 
individual from king to beggar, and every age from 
the nonagenarian to the new-born babe. The collec- 
tion here shown contains many examples, all of them 
admirable, of this so difficult phase of art. 

Those roads and bridges, arid wastes and thickly 
wooded hills, the gorges and running waters of Spain, 
are brilliant and dramatic with color and light and are 
true pictures every one. That of the young girl 
who has just stepped from her ocean bath, with her 
wet costume clinging to her, while a youth is throw- 
ing a great white sheet about her, is one which seems 
to leave no one untouched. It embodies the whole 
grace and wholesome light-heartedness of youth, all 
bathed in brilliant, rich-colored Spanish sunshine. 

If Sorolla leads you in serious, sad, or even tragic 

Excelentisitno Senor D. Marcelino Menendez y Pelaj 


Kxcelentisimo Senor D. Aureliano tie Berut 


paths it is because he understands all sides of life and 
would have his report free from ill proportion. His 
"Sad Inheritance," fortunately owned in this country, 
shows a priest watching over his charge, a troop of 
sickly, maimed, and feeble-minded boys as they take 
an ocean dip. You come upon it in this joyous exhi- 
bition as you might in life, unawares, a stern re- 
minder of the tragic reach which our sympathies must 
have if we are to call ourselves human in any ade- 
quate sense of the word. We return with fuller 
appreciation of the value, of the great cost, of joy 
from such a sermon to the overflowing health of the 
large picture of Sorolla's daughters on horseback, 
dressed in lovely costumes of former days. 

Sorolla y Bastida has the instinct of a Shakspere 
with his wide grasp of nature and life, and his lyric 
and epic presentation of it. His work should incite 
a public to active conspiracy with artists, through 
intelligent appreciation, to become alive, to make their 
art big with the bigness of life itself through their 
own bigness of heart and mind. 


(The Philadelphia Inquirer, February 28, 1909.) 


IT is not often that a one-man exhibition can fascinate 
a community to the extent that the works of the 
modern Spanish master, Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, 
have done at the Hispanic Museum, i56th Street and 
Broadway, New York, during- the last fortnight. 

Up to the present time 53,494 persons have visited 
the exhibition. Last Sunday alone the attendance 
ivas 10,296 and on Washington's birthday 11,906. 
In fact, William M. Chase, instructor at the Penn- 
sylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, considered it of 
such importance that he took his entire class over to 
New York to see it. 

The exhibit, composed of 350 pictures, over a hun- 
dred of which are small sketches, is the sensation of 
the hour in the art world of New York. Until now 
little has been known of this man's work among 
Americans, except by a few artists living abroad, so 
that the present display comes as a complete revela- 

The Metropolitan Museum has purchased two of 
the pictures, "Oxen Hauling Boats on Valencia 

Kxcelentisimo Senor Marques de \ T iana 


Beach" and his composition group, "Leonese Peas- 
ants," both large canvases, for its permanent collec- 

Most of the paintings are landscapes, with some 
few portraits, but it is in his depiction of nature that 
Sorolla chiefly excels. These canvases are beautiful 
in color, full of sunlight and atmosphere and air. 

What Sorolla seeks is not to paint facts or to tell 
a story, but to convey to the spectator something of 
the glad joy of life that is felt out of doors with 
nature in contact with the sun's warm rays, the cool 
play of the breezes, and the broad expanse of sky and 
sea. It is primarily these moods of nature that So- 
rolla grasps and transmits to his canvases, and in 
their ability to hold, to thrill, and fascinate the on- 
looker they stand the test of all real art. An artist 
friend of Sorolla says that he never makes a correc- 
tion in his drawing. 

But it is not alone as a colorist that Sorolla excels ; 
he is a great draftsman as well. In the large 
canvas bought by the Metropolitan, for instance, the 
character and action of the oxen straining under their 
load, the various attitudes and movements of the 
figures, show a perfect mastery of technic. 

In the portrait groups is one of the young King of 
Spain and one of the Queen, also a full-length, seated 


portrait of the Spanish artist Maclrazo. All are well 
rendered, but not so charming as his landscapes. 

As to the life of this remarkable man he was born 
in Valencia, Spain, forty-seven years ago. Left an 
orphan when but two years old, he was adopted by a 
poor though kind-hearted aunt. Early in life Sorolla 
took an interest in drawing, and when fifteen was sent 
to the academy at Valencia to study art, where he 
soon won a prize for color and drawing. A man of 
means, seeing talent in the boy, paid for his studies 
for several years. Later Sorolla married his patron's 

As usually happens, his pictures at first received 
little recognition, but when his scene of the Spanish 
War of Independence was first exhibited at Madrid 
it immediately brought him fame. After that he 
went to Rome and Paris on a scholarship. His "Fish- 
ing-Boats Returning," exhibited first at the Paris 
Salon, was bought by the French government for the 
Luxembourg. Since then his fame has been uni- 

And yet, Sorolla is a modest, retiring little man, 
devoted to his art, his country, and his Spanish 

The exhibit will remain in New York until March 
8th, after which it will go to Buffalo. Why not 

[334 ] 

(The New York Times, February 28, 1909.) 

IN the recent issue of "The Bulletin" of the Metro- 
politan Museum it is stated with caution : "In matters 
of art, we in this country have so long been accus- 
tomed to turn to France for our inspirations and ex- 
amples that it may well be that we have not been 
sufficiently alive to what has been going on in other 
countries." It would not be stating the case too 
strongly to say that we have been absurdly apathetic 
toward what has been going on in other countries. 
Our painters have been to school in France with few 
exceptions, and in the nursery at home we have been 
interested in the outside world only as it brought us 
news from the schoolroom, where our big brothers 
were having their chance. Fortunately and naturally 
with the gradual advance toward maturity of interests 
and a wider culture we are ready to change our point 
of view. The German exhibition is one sign, for, in 
spite of the fact that it owes its existence to the 
broad-minded generosity of a private citizen, its en- 
thusiastic reception by the public shows that the public 
is no longer cribbed, cabined, and confined in taste or 
judgment. The Spanish exhibits of the Hispanic 
Museum are due to the energy and high ideals of a 


private citizen, and here also the public has responded 
with joyous appreciation. We are promised an exhi- 
bition of modern English painting. The ball has 
been set rolling, and it is impossible to predict the 
proportions to which it will attain. But it will be a 
great mistake to permit any reaction against French 
art to creep into the general feeling. The modern 
French art that is having a representation at Montreal 
must come here also. 

IN a city not supposed to be characterized by an 
interest in art there has been a truly amazing wel- 
come accorded to both the German exhibition at the 
Metropolitan Museum and the Sorolla exhibition at 
the Hispanic Museum. At the German exhibit the 
attendance from January 4th, the day on which the 
exhibition opened, until February 22d, the day of its 
closing, was 168,074. At the Sorolla exhibition the 
attendance from February 4th until the morning of 
February 25th was 43,358. In the case of the 
Sorolla exhibition the first four days were devoted 
to a public especially invited. The two record days 
of this exhibition were Washington's Birthday, when 
11,906 people visited the galleries, and the preceding 
Sunday, when 10,296 people were there. 1 

1 The full record of attendance is given on a subsequent 


(The Evening Post, March 6, 1909.) 

THE Sorolla exhibition leaves us to-morrow. Its 
memories will remain with us for many a long day. 
An article by Christian Brinton on "Sorolla at the 
Hispanic Society," which appears in the current num- 
ber of the "International Studio" gives a very lucid 
view of the Spanish painter's art. It is the fairest 
article on the subject that we have read. Mr. Brinton 
speaks of "the luminous and stimulating art of So- 
rolla," of his being "the strongest personality of his 
circle," "that aggressive group of artists who are 
to-day reviving with such veracity and force the an- 
cient pictorial supremacy of their country," Spain; 
he tells us how "there has never been and there can 
never be anything speculative or philosophical in the 
art of the Iberian Peninsula," that "Spanish painting 
does not express symbols, it records facts," that "ful- 
filling the broad, traditional requirements of Spanish 
painting in general, yet bathed in the vibrant splendor 
of the modern palette, the art of Sorolla suggests in 
technical surety that of Zorn, Besnard, or Sargent." 
"Yet none of these men equals the sturdy Valencian 
in his close contact with reality, in the rapidity of his 


impressionistic notation or the magnificent robustness 
of his outlook." We would recommend a reading of 
Mr. Brinton's article to a certain impressionist painter 
of this city who could see nothing but a chromo in 
Sorolla's "Beaching the Boat,*' and only snapshots in 
the beach pictures. 

MR. BRINTON'S article, however, is not all praise. 
Sorolla's "powers of ready notation are truly phe- 
nomenal," but "it is not so apparent that he is able 
deliberately to face a sitter and reconstruct upon 
canvas his (the sitter's) inner, as well as his outer 
semblance." The majority of the Sorolla portraits, 
Mr. Brinton finds "lacking in depth and inevitability." 
Sorolla is "not contemplative. He does not in por- 
traiture patiently await that confiding self-revelation 
which comes with time alone." It is a pity that this 
interesting and judicial article did not appear earlier 
when unexpectedly large crowds were filling the Mu- 
seum on 1 56th Street. It would have assisted these 
crowds to a fuller appreciation of the heights to 
which Sorolla had reached in that "Jubilant Sym- 
phony of Sunlight," to a recognition of his limita- 
tions and of the cause of them he confesses himself 
he can feel no sympathy with a sitter in a studio 

C 346:1 

when he leaves outdoor life. But better late than 
never, the article will serve to keep alive the distinct 
revelation the Sorolla exhibition has been to the 
American public. 

(The New York Times, March 6, 1909.) 


PAINTER of radiant childhood, the sun and the open 


Painter of pitiful babies broken by Destiny, 
Painter of flesh and spirit, of youth the dreamer 

Painter of men and women, of faces like thine or 

Master of men's soul-secrets, master of women's 

I bring thee greeting, Sorolla, and honor for thy full 


Painter of winds and waters, of winds that laugh as 

they blow, 
Of waters blue as yon Heaven, of sunshine hotly 



Painter of sharp swift motion, of sea-sprite babies 

that flee 
Out to the flashing breakers, out to their Mother the 

Master of painted motion, lord of the sea and the 

We bring thee greeting, Sorolla, and hearts that may 

understand ! 

For we of this young strong Nation are keen for the 

thing that is true, 
We want the art that is Honest and we prod the 

Dreamer to do. 
We welcome your art, Sorolla, because it 's alive and 

With seedlings and seasons of Nature, \vith the Sea 

and its ebb and its flow. 

Master of painted canvas, Lover of human kind 
We bring thee greeting, Sorolla, man of the open 


Painter of splendors and squalors, of fishermen, 

peasants, and Kings, 
Painter of modern Madonnas, of joys that maternity 


Painter of change and of motion, with brush that is 

swift like the wind, 
Painter of gay, naked boyhood, pure both in body 

and mind, 
Master of masterly brushwork, with vision unjaded 

and keen 
We bring thee greeting, Sorolla, for Art that is vital 

and clean. 

Painter of radiant childhood, the sun and the open 


Painter of sorrowful children, shattered by Destiny, 
Painter of innocent girlhood, of youth the dreamer 

Painter of men and women, of faces like thine and 

Painter of wind and motion, of the wide mysterious 

Honor and greeting, Sorolla, to the son of thy 

Mother Spain ! 



(The Evening Post, March 8, 1909.) 




Is the New York public manifesting a sudden lean- 
ing toward things artistic; and, if not, why the sur- 
prising figures that were given out to-day at the 
Hispanic Society Museum? This is the problem that 
is being worked out in the studio belt with eager in- 

The exhibit of the Sorolla canvases work of the 
Spanish painter will be closed to-night at 10 
o'clock. For a bit more than a month the pictures 
have been on view, seven days each week, from 
10 A.M. until the same hour at night, and at the 
opening hour to-day the total of attendance had been 
148,899, probably the largest number of visitors ever 
recorded at a similar exhibit in this city. 

When the collection was first placed on view, on 
February 8th, attendance for the day was 589. From 
that time the crowds continued to increase, until, yes- 



terday, 29,461 visitors taxed the capacity of the ex- 
hibition room. 

SOMETHING about the Sorolla exhibit caught the 
popular fancy and there has not been an hour of the 
day when the building has not been well filled with 
spectators of all classes. 

Possibly the manner of conducting the exhibit 
has contributed to some extent to its success. There 
have been few, if any, restrictions. 

The pictures are there, and the visitor may enter 
and linger as long as he likes before this or that fa- 
vorite, without fear of being requested to make room 
for others. Even the umbrella has been treated with 
due courtesy, and no officious attendant has been on 
hand to separate it from its owner temporarily. 

But, of course, the pictures themselves have been 
the chief attraction. When they are taken down, 
many of them will be shipped to Buffalo, where they 
will be placed on exhibition for three weeks. From 
Buffalo the collection will travel to Boston for sev- 
eral weeks' stay there. It is not likely that the col- 
lection will be allowed to leave this country. Many 
offers have been made for nearly every canvas in the 
group, and most of the paintings will be bought by 
local collectors. 

Shortly after the lunch hour to-day a small parade 
of touring cars, cabs, and other vehicles began ar- 
riving, and these, added to the steady stream of visi- 
tors who came via the subway, gave the scene outside 
the exhibition something of the appearance of a 
Monday night at the opera. To-day's attendance, it 
was said, would probably be one of the largest of the 

(The New York Herald, March 9, 1909.) 





THRONGS of persons passed through the Hispanic 
Society's museum yesterday to get a last glimpse of 
the exhibition of paintings by Mr. Sorolla, a Spanish 
painter, which came to a brilliant close. The attend- 
ance since the exhibition was opened, on February 
4th, has been 160,000 persons. 

AT first the attendance was small, but the press and a 
general discussion of the merit of the pictures drew 
the attention of the public. The first general day, 
February 8th, had an attendance of 589 persons. 


The attendance on February 2ist was 10,296, on 
Washington's Birthday, 11,906; on Sunday, Febru- 
ary 28th, 19,173, while'on last Saturday it was 25,- 
002, and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of visitors 
were turned away. The highest attendance was 
29,461, which was recorded last Sunday. 

(The Evening Post, March 9, 1909.) 

WHAT inference respecting the popular taste in art 
is to be drawn from the extraordinary success of the 
exhibition of Senor Sorolla's paintings in this city 
during the past month? They have easily been the 
art sensation of the year. The works of this one 
Spaniard have thrown the show of contemporary 
German art into complete eclipse. It is stated that 
150,000 visitors have gone to the remote Hispanic 
Museum to bathe in Sorolla's sunlight. To conclude 
that they were all discriminating lovers of art would 
be foolish. A fashion set in such things easily draws 
along many thoughtless folk. But we know that 
genuine artists have gone again and again with re- 
newed delight, and that really intelligent amateurs 
of art have leavened the crowds. Admitting the 
power of novelty in Sorolla's name and method, we 


yet are bound to see in his marked triumph evidence 
of a capacity in the people to appreciate and to be 
moved by high art. This ne^ Spanish Conquest of 
America simply proves once more that artistic genius 
has the world at its feet. 

(Las Novedades, New York, March n, 1909.) 


UNA concurrencia inmensa asistio el martes ultimo a 
la clausura de la exhibicion de pinturas de Sorolla y 
Bastida, en el Museo de la Sociedad Hispanica de 
America. El numero de personas que visitaron la 
exposicion es el mas grande que jamas haya concu- 
rrido en esta ciudad a exhibicion alguna de arte, pues 
que desde el 4 de Febrero en que se abrio, han visto 
las famosas obras del artista espanol, 160,000 per- 
sonas. El primer dia de la exhibicion para el publico, 
despues de la exhibicion privada, concurrieron 589 per- 
sonas; durante una semana hubo una concurrencia 
diaria de 4,000; el 21 de Febrero concurrieron 10,- 
296; el 22, dia de fiesta nacional, 11,906; el domingo 
28 siguiente, 19,173, y el sabado ultimo, 25,002, no 
habiendo sido posible a millares de personas poder 
entrar este dia en el Museo, por la cantidad de visi- 

tantes. La mas grande cifra fue la alcanzada el do- 
mingo ultimo, en que hubo 29,461 visitantes. 

No pudo, pues, haber sido mas complete el exito 
obtenido por el notable pintor espanol, quien debe, 
con razon, sentirse orgulloso de ese triunfo suyo, sin 
precedente en este pais. Su nombre se ha hecho ver- 
daderamente popular entre los newyorkinos y su repu- 
tacion artistica ha quedado solidamente sentada 
entre la mas culta sociedad. 

Se asegura que la venta de algunos de sus cuadros, 
produjo al serior Sorolla de tres cientos a cuatroscien- 
tos mil duros y que cuatro de ellos han sido adquiri- 
dos para el Museo Metropolitano de Bellas Artes. 

No solo desde el punto de vista artistico ha sido 
beneficioso para Espaiia el grandiose triunfo de uno 
de sus ilustres hijos : el publico de Nueva York ha 
tenido ocasion de ver pintadas con la maestria que 
Sorolla sabe hacerlo, algunas de las bellas escenas 
espaiiolas, que han despertado el interes y el entu- 
siasmo a que justamente son acreedoras y hecho nacer 
el deseo de ver la hermosa tierra en que se han desa- 
rrollado. Los risuenos y pintorescos paisajes de 
Valencia, que tan bellos asuntos inspiraron a la ima- 
ginacion del gran artista, han revelado al publico 
americano la existencia de ttna tierra ideal para pasar 
los rigores del verno. 

Nos complacemos una vez mas en enviar al ilustre 
pintor nuestras mas calurosas y entusiastas felicita- 
ciones, movidos por el natural sentimiento de raza 
que ha despertado nuestro orgullo tambien ante su 








Siete-Picos, Guadarrama 

Seven-Peaks, Quadarrama Mts. 
The mountain so-called, in the province of Mad- 
rid, is about 7160 ft. high. 

Covachuelas, Toledo 

Covachuelas, Toledo 

Covachuelas, "Little Caves," is the most northern 

suburb of Toledo. 

Las Pedrizas, Pardo 

Las Pedrizas, Pardo 

Pedriza, "Stony Tract," "Stone Fence." El Pardo, 
a little town of 1800 inhabitants, 40 minutes by 
tramway north from Madrid, in a royal park 36 
miles in circumference. 

Senor Gomar 

A distinguished landscape-painter 

El Torneo, Pardo 
El Torneo, Pardo 
Torneo, "jousting-place" 

Una calle de Toledo 

A Toledo street 

Vista del Torneo 

View from El Torneo 

Murallas de Segovia 
Walls of Segovia 

"Segovia is an unmatched picture of the Middle 
Ages. You read its history on the old city-walls 
with their eighty-three towers." A. Gallenga. 

9 Convento del Parral, Segovia 
Convent of El Parral, Segovia 
Parral, "Vine-Arbor." The now suppressed mon- 
astery is across the Eresma, to the north of 

10 Alrededores de Segovia 

Environs of Segovia 

1 1 Reflejos del Cabo, Javea 

Reflections from the Cape, Javea 
Javea, a town of 6700 inhabitants, on the Jalon, 
45 miles south of Valencia. The cape is Cabo de 
San Antonio. 

12 El Clamores, Segovia 
The Clamores, Segovia 

Segovia is perched on a rocky hill, about 330 
ft. high, between two small streams, the Eresma, 
north, and the Clamores, south, which join to the 
west below the Alcazar. 


13 Rocas del Cabo, Javea 

Rocks of the Cape, Javea 

14 Alqueria, Alcira 
Farm-house, Alcira 

Alcira is a town of 20,500 inhabitants, 23 miles 
south of Valencia. It has many palms and 

1 5 Maria en Biarritz 

Maria at Biarritz 

Senorita Doiia Maria Sorolla 

16 Sombra del Puente Alcantara, Toledo 

Shadow of the Alcantara Bridge, Toledo 
This bridge at the northeast angle of the city has 
one large and one smaller arch. It is of Moorish 
origin (Arab, al kantara=:bridge). 

17 Castillo de San Servando, Toledo 

On the heights on the left bank of the Tagus are 
the ruins of the Castle of San Servando, erected 
by Alfonso VI (1072-1109) to protect the convent 
of that name and the city, and renewed by 
Alfonso VIII (1158-1214). 

18 Dr. Decret 

An eminent physician 

19 Puente de Alcantara, Toledo 

Alcantara Bridge, Toledo 

20 La Selva, Gran j a 

The Forest, La Gran j a 

In 1719 Philip V purchased the granja, "grange," 
of the Hieronymite monks, seven miles southeast 
of Segovia and began to construct the chateau 
and gardens named La Granja. 

21 Rio de las Truchas, Granja 

Trout-stream, La Granja 

22 Patio de las Danzas, Alcazar, Sevilla 
Court of the Dances, Alcazar, Seville 
The Alcazar, the palace of the Moorish kings, has 
been the residence of the Spanish sovereigns since 
the capture of the city by St. Ferdinand in 1248. 

23 Adelfas 

Rose-bay trees 

24 Canada, Asturias 

Glen, Asturias 

25 Pabellon de Carlos V, Sevilla 

Pavilion of Charles V (Charles I of Spain), 


26 Puente de San Martin, Toledo 

St. Martin's Bridge, Toledo 

27 Naranjos 


28 Cordeleros 


29 Senor Franzen 

The photographer 

30 Rocas del Faro, Biarritz 

Rocks at the lighthouse, Biarritz 

31 Puente de San Martin, Toledo 

St. Martin's Bridge, Toledo 

32 Pescadora valenciana 

Valencian fisherwoman 

33 Camino de San Esteban, Asturias 

Road of San Esteban, Asturias 

34 Estanque del Alcazar, Sevilla 

Basin in the Alcazar, Seville 

35 Puerto de Valencia 

Harbor of Valencia 

36 Amontonando el heno, Asturias 

Haymaking, Asturias 

37 Casa del Greco, Toledo 

House of "El Greco," Toledo 

Domingo Theotocopuli, called "El Greco" (1548- 


38 Maria con sombrero negro 

Maria with black hat 
Senorita Dona Maria Sorolla 

39 Torre de entrada en Toledo 

Tower of entrance, Toledo 

40 Las Covachuelas, Toledo 

(See No. 2) 

41 Rocas, Javea 

Rocks, Javea 
(See No. n) 

42 Camino de los Alijares, Toledo 

Road of the Alijares, "Stony Ground," Toledo 

43 Familia segoviana 

Segovian family 

44 Escaldando uva, Javea 

Scalding grapes 
(See No. 11) 

45 Joaquin 

Senor D. Joaquin Sorolla 

46 Elena 


Senorita Dona Elena Sorolla 

47 El Grutesco, Alcazar, Sevilla 

"El Grutesco" 

48 Playa de Valencia 

Beach of Valencia 

49 Velas a secar, Valencia 

Sails drying 

50 Naranjo 


51 Nino con la barquita 

Little boy with toy boat 

52 Viejo pescador valenciano 

Old Valencian fisherman 

53 Barcas de pesca 



54 Puerto de Valencia 

Harbor of Valencia 

55 El beso 

The kiss 

56 Nino sobre una roca, Javea 

Little boy on a rock 

57 Bao de la Reina, Valsain 

The Queen's Beam, Valsain 

Valsain, an old and neglected hunting-chateau, 
two miles from La Gran j a, built by Philip II and 
burned in the reign of Charles II. 

58 Escalera del Palacio, Granja 

Staircase of the Palace, La Granja 

59 Elena en el Pardo 

Helen at El Pardo 

60 Fuente de los Caballos, Granja 

Fountain of the Horses, La Granja 
The fountains of La Granja are superior to those 
of Versailles. They were mainly made in 1727 by 
Isabella Farnese as a surprise for her husband 
Philip V, on his return after a long absence. He 
said : "It has cost me three millions and has 
amused me three minutes." The water is supplied 
by an artificial lake, El Mar, 4100 ft. above the 


61 Otofio, Granja 

Autumn, La Granja 

62 Maria pintando, Pardo 

Maria painting, Pardo 

63 Fuente de la Selva, Granja 

Fountain of the Forest, La Granja 

64 Fuente de Neptuno, Granja 

Fountain of Neptune, La Granja 

65 Huerto de naranjos, Valencia 

Orange-grove, Valencia 

66 Francisqueta, Valencia 

Fanny, Valencia 

67 Esperando la pesca, Valencia 

Waiting for the fish, Valencia 

68 Recogiendo la vela, Valencia 

Taking in the sail, Valencia 

69 Regreso de la pesca, Valencia 

Return from fishing, Valencia 

[397 1 

70 Pescadores de quisquillas, Valencia 

Crayfishers, Valencia 

71 Nadador, Javea 

Swimmer, Javea 

72 Elena entre rosas 

Helen among roses 

73 Idilio 


74 Serior D. Vicente Blasco Ibanez 

The eminent novelist 

75 Arbol amarillo, Granja 

Yellow tree, La Granja 

76 El ciego de Toledo 

Blind man of Toledo 

77 Pescadora con su hijo, Valencia 

Fisherwoman with her son, Valencia 

78 El bafio, Granja 

The bath, La Granja 

79 Cosiendo la vela, Valencia 

Sewing the sail, Valencia 

80 Buscando cangrejos, Javea 

Looking for crabs, Javea 

81 Maria, Granja 

Maria, La Granja 

82 Joaquin y su perro 

Joaquin and his dog 

83 Sobre la arena 

Upon the sand 

84 Pescadoras valencianas 

Valencian fisherwomen 

85 Senora de Sorolla (bianco) 

Seiiora de Sorolla in white 

86 A la orilla del mar, Valencia 

At the sea-shore. Valencia 

87 Valenciana 

Valencian woman 

En los jardines de la Granja 

In the Gardens of La Granja 

The Gardens of La Granja, laid out by the 

French landscape-gardener, Boutelet, cover 350 

89 Viejo castellano 

Old Castilian 

90 Excelentisimo 

Seiior Marques D. Estanislao de Urquijo 

Banker and statesman 

91 Hija de pescador, Valencia 

Fisherman's daughter, Valencia 

92 Elena y sus munecas 

Helen and her dolls 

93 Mis hijos 

My children 

94 Nadadores 


95 Baja mar (Elena en Biarritz) 

Low tide (Helen at Biarritz) 

96 Componiendo redes 

Mending nets 



97 El bano, Javea 

The bath, Javea 

98 El baiio, Javea 

99 Encajonando pasa 

Boxing raisins 

100 Puente de la Selva, Granja 

Forest Bridge, La Granja 

101 Vista del Palacio, Granja 

View of the Palace, La Granja 

1 02 Vuelta de la pesca, Valencia 

Return from fishing, Valencia 

103 Al bano, Valencia 

At the bath, Valencia 

104 Nina con lazo azul, Valencia 

Little girl with blue ribbon, Valencia 

[05 Maria en el puerto de Javea 

Maria, at the harbor of Javea 

106 Instantanea, Biarritz 

Instantaneous, Biarritz 

107 Nino entre espumas, Javea 

Boy among breakers, Javea 

1 08 Jardin del Alcazar, Sevilla 

Garden of the Alcazar, Seville 

109 Camino de adelfas, Valencia 

Rose-bay road, Valencia 

1 10 Maria y su abuela 

Maria and her grandmother 

in Malvarrosa, Valencia 

Malvarrosa Beach, Valencia 

112 Huerta de Valencia 

The Huerta or "Garden" of Valencia 

113 Jardin del Alcazar, Sevilla 

Garden of the Alcazar, Seville 

114 Jardin del Alcazar, Sevilla 

H5 La Giralda, Sevilla 

This tower, originally the minaret of the principal 
mosque, was erected 1184-96 by the architect 
Jabir. It is 45 ft. sq., has walls 8 ft. thick and 
was at first 230 ft. high. In 1568 the cathedral 
chapter commissioned Hernan Ruiz to build the 
upper section. The Giraldillo or vane is 305 ft. 
above the ground. 

116 Palacio de Carlos V, Sevilla 

Palace of Charles V, Seville 

117 Puerto de Valencia 

Harbor of Valencia 

n<^ Marques de la Vega- Ynclan 

119 Puerto de Valencia 
Harbor of Valencia 

120 Al agua, Valencia 

At the water 

121 Casa de la Huerta, Valencia 

House in the "Huerta," Valencia 

122 Jardin de la playa, Valencia 
Beach garden, Valencia 


123 Huerta de Valencia 

"Huerta" of Valencia 

124 Jardin del Alcazar, Sevilla 

Garden of the Alcazar, Seville 

125 Asturias 


126 San Sebastian 

San Sebastian 

126A Estudio de oleaje 

Study of surf 

127 Puerto viejo. Biarritz 

Old harbor, Biarritz 

128 Playa de Biarritz 

Beach of Biarritz 

129 Playa de Biarritz 

130 Playa de Biarritz 

131 Playa de Biarritz 

132 Playa de Biarritz 

133 Playa de Biarritz 

134 Playa de Biarritz 

135 Playa de Biarritz 

136 Playa de Biarritz 

137 Playa de Biarritz 

138 Playa de Biarritz 

139 Playa de Biarritz 

140 Playa de Biarritz 

141 Playa de Biarritz 

142 Playa de Biarritz 

143 Playa de Biarritz 

144 La Concha, San Sebastian 

San Sebastian, the summer residence of the royal 
family, is at the south base of the Monte Orgull, 
a rocky island now connected with the main land, 


and on alluvial ground between the mouth of the 
Urumea on the east and the bay of La Concha, 
"The Shell," on the west. 

145 Playa de Biarritz 

146 Playa de Biarritz 

147 Playa de Biarritz 

148 Playa de Biarritz 

149 Playa de Biarritz 

150 Playa de Biarritz 

151 Playa de Biarritz 

152 Playa de Biarritz 

153 Playa de Biarritz 

154 Playa de Biarritz 

155 Playa de Valencia 



156 Playa de Valencia 

157 Playa de Valencia 

158 Puerto de San Sebastian 

159 Puerto de San Sebastian 

1 60 Playa de Valencia 

161 Pasajes 

The beautiful and almost land-locked Bay of 
Pasajes, which resembles an Alpine lake. The 
Basque whaling-port from the i6th to the i8th 
century. From it Lafayette sailed for America 
in 1776. 

162 Puerto de San Sebastian 

163 La Concha, San Sebastian 

164 La Concha, San Sebastian 

165 Puerto de Pasajes 


1 66 Playa de Valencia 

167 Playa de Valencia 

1 68 Playa de Valencia 

169 Playa de Valencia 

170 Playa de Valencia 

171 Playa de Valencia 

172 Playa de Valencia 

173 Playa de Valencia 

174 Playa de Valencia 

175 Playa de Valencia 

176 Playa de Valencia 

177 Playa de Valencia 

178 Cabo de San Antonio, Javea 

Cape San Antonio, Javea 

179 Galicia 

1 80 Cosiendo la vela 

Sewing the sail 

181 Adormideras 


182 Playa de Valencia 

183 Malvarrosa 

Malvarrosa Beach, Valencia 

184 Puerto de San Sebastian 

185 Playa de Valencia 

1 86 Locutorio 

"Locutory," in convents a place for the reception 
of visitors. 

187 Playa de Valencia 


1 88 Playa de Valencia 

189 Cabo de San Antonio, Javea 

Cape San Antonio, Javea 

190 Not exhibited 

191 Adelfas 


192 Playa de Valencia 

193 La Concha, San Sebastian 

194 Playa de Valencia 

195 Playa de Valencia 

196 Playa de Valencia 
I96A Playa de Valencia 

197 Biarritz 

198 Biarritz 


199 Segovia 

200 Asturias 

201 Versalles 


202 Playa de Valencia 

203 Playa de Valencia 

204 Playa de Valencia 

205 Playa de Valencia 

206 Patio del Cabafial 
Court of the Cabafial 

In the season (mid-June to October) tramways 
run from Valencia to the north through El 
Cabafial, "Huts," to the bathing-establishment, 
Las Arenas. 

207 En el rio 

In the river 

208 Puerto de Valencia 

2OO, Playa de Valencia 

210 Puerto de Valencia 

211 Playa de Valencia 

212 Playa de Valencia 

213 Playa de Valencia 

214 Malvas reales 

Roval mallows 

215 Los geranios 


216 Altar de San Vicente, Valencia 

Altar of St. Vincent Ferrer in the house in which 
he was born, at Valencia, Jan. 23, 1355 or 1357 
He died in 1419. 

217 Playa de Valencia 

218 Puerto de Aviles 

219 Playa de Valencia 

220 Playa de Valencia 

221 Plava de Valencia 

222 Mercado de Leon 

Market of Leon 

223 Playa de Valencia 

224 Playa de Valencia 

225 Playa de Valencia 

226 Playa de Valencia 

227 Playa de Valencia 

228 Huerta de Valencia 

"Huerta" of Valencia 

229 Playa de Valencia 

230 Playa de Valencia 


231 Playa de Valencia 

232 Playa de Valencia 

233 Playa de Valencia 

234 Playa de Valencia 

235 Asturias 

236 Playa de Valencia 

237 Mujeres jugando 

Women playing 

238 Playa de Valencia 

239 Playa de Valencia 

240 Playa de Valencia 

241 Playa de Valencia 

24IA Original sketch for No. 350 

Senor 1). Manuel B. Cossio 


242 Mercado de Leon 

243 Playa de Valencia 

244 Playa de Valencia 

245 Playa de Valencia 

246 Playa de Valencia 

247 Asturias 

248 Leon 

249 Asturias 

250 Javea 

251 Asturias 

252 Leon 

253 Asturias 


254 Asturias 

255 Playa de Valencia 

256 Playa de Valencia 

257 Asturias 

258 Leon 

259 Playa de Valencia 

260 Playa de Valencia 

261 Playa de Valencia 

262 Leon 

263 Playa de Valencia 

264 Asturias 
26; Galicia 


266 Malvarrosa 

Malvarrosa Beach, Valencia 

267 Javea 

268 Biarritz 

269 Puerto de Javea 

270 La Concha, San Sebastian 

271 San Sebastian 

272 San Sebastian 

273 Playa de Valencia 

274 Playa de Valencia 

275 Playa de Valencia 

276 Playa de Valencia 

277 Playa de Valencia 


278 Lavanderas 


279 San Sebastian 

280 Playa de Valencia 

281 San Sebastian 

282 San Sebastian 

283 Playa de Valencia 

284 Playa de Valencia 

285 El tio Pancha 

Uncle Pancha 

286 Serior Garcia 

The father-in-law of Senor Sorolla 

287 Nino desnudo, Granja 

Boy nude. La Granja 

288 Seriora de Sorolla (negro) 

Senora de Sorolla in black 

289 Excelentisimo 

Senor Duque de Alba 

Grande de Espafia 

290 Madre (Senora de Sorolla) 

Mother (Senora de Sorolla) 

291 Corriendo por la playa 

Running along the beach 

292 Despues del baiio 

After the bath 

293 Paseo del Faro, Biarritz 

Lighthouse Walk, Biarritz 

294 Nino en la playa 

Little boy on the beach 

295 Cabo de San Antonio, Javea 

Cape San Antonio, Javea 

296 Excelentisimo 

Senor Conde de Villagonzalo 

The Count de Villagonzalo 

297 Nino en el mar 
Boy in the sea 


298 Xinos en la playa 

Children on the beach 

299 Barcas valencianas 

Valencian boats 

300 El hermano pequeno 

The little brother 

301 Niiios en el mar 

Children in the sea 

302 Naranjal, Alcira 

Orange-grove, Alcira 

303 Al ag-ua 

At the water 

304 Xiiio en la playa 

Little bov on the beach 

305 Calle cle naranjos 

Street of orange-trees 

306 Jugando en el agua 

Playing in the water 


Excelentisimo Senc 

. Alejandro Piclal y .Moti 


307 Playa de Valencia (Luz de la mafiana) 

Beach of Valencia by morning light 

308 Salida del bafio 

Coming out of the bath 

309 El nieto 

The grandson 

310 Alegria del agua 

Water joy 

311 Sobre la arena 

On the sand 

312 D. Francisco Acebal 

Man of letters 

313 Excelentisimo 

Sefior D. Marcelino Menendez y Pelayo 

The most eminent living scholar of Spain. Born 
at Santander, Nov. 3, 1856, at the age of 22 he be- 
came a professor in the University of Madrid, 
and when 25 was admitted to the Spanish 
Academy. After more than twenty years' service 
he resigned his professorship to become Director 
of the National Library. 

314 Excelentisimo 

Sefior D. Aureliano de Beruete 

An eminent historian and critic of art, especially 
distinguished for his work on Velazquez. 


315 Excelentisimo 

Seiior Marques cle Viana 

Grande cle Espana 

316 Playa de Valencia 

317 Serior Granzon 

318 Toros que se preparan para sacar las 

barcas de pesca, Valencia 

Oxen ready to beach fishing-boats, Valencia 
Called in England "Beaching the Boat"' 

319 Niiios en el mar 

Children in the sea 

320 Mar (Efecto de la manana) 

Sea (Morning effect) 

321 Barca pescadora 


322 Velas en el mar 

Sails at sea 

323 Vuelta de la pesca 

Return from fishing 

324 Barcas en la arena 

Boats on the sand 


Excelentisima Senora de Sorolla de mantilla espanol 


325 Estudio de barcas 

Study of boats 

326 Barcas pescadoras 


327 Barcas 


328 Nifios en la orilla 

Children on the beach 

329 Playa de Valencia 

330 Playa de Valencia 

33 1 Playa de Valencia 

332 Playa de Valencia 

333 Redes a secar 

Nets drying 

334 Empujando la barca 

Shoving off the boat 


335 Playa de Valencia 

336 Adelfas 


337 Playa de Valencia 

338 Playa de Valencia 

339 Playa de Valencia 

340 Leoneses 

Leonese peasants 

341 Al bafio 

At the bath 

342 Idilio en el mar 

Sea idyl 

343 Not exhibited 

344 Senor D. Manuel B. Cossio 

Director of the Institute Pedagogico, Madrid, and 

author of "El Greco" 

(Acquired by the Hispanic Society of America) 



345 Los pimientos 

The peppers 

(Acquired by the Hispanic Society of America) 

346 Excelentisimo 

Sefior D. Raimundo de Madrazo 

Descendant and kinsman of painters, and himself 
an eminent portrait-painter 

347 Excelentisimo 

Sefior D. Alejandro Pidal y Mon 
Statesman and man of letters 

348 Excelentisima 

Senora de Sorolla de mantilla espafiola 

Senora de Sorolla in Spanish mantilla 

349 Mis hijas, Elena y Maria a caballo con los 
trajes valencianos de 1808 

My daughters, Helen and Maria on horseback in 
Valencian costumes of 1808, the year of the out- 
break of the War for Independence against 

350 Triste Herencia 

Sad Inheritance 

(See p. 20 of Introduction) 






Thursday, February 4 88 

Friday, February 5 194 

Saturday, February 6 456 

Sunday, February 7 905 


Monday, February 8 589 

Tuesday, February 9 531 

Wednesday, February 10 453 

Thursday, February 1 1 658 

Friday, February 12 2 445 

Saturday, February 13 1,611 

Sunday, February 14 4,047 


Monday, February 15 775 

Tuesday, February 16 514 

Wednesday, February 17 1 4?6 

Thursday, February 18 1,517 

Friday, February 19 1,122 

Saturday, February 20 2,274 

Sunday, February 21 10,296 


Monday, February 22 11,906 

Tuesday, February 23 680 

Wednesday, February 24 821 

Thursday, February 25 i,39 

Friday, February 26 2,586 

Saturday, February 27 6,160 

Sunday, February 28 I9,'73 


Monday, March i. ... 3,176 

Tuesday. March 2 2,356 

Wednesday, March 3 4,794 

Thursday, March 4 2,536 

Friday, March 5 8,904 

Saturday, March 6 25,002 

Sunday, March 7 29,461 

Monday, March 8 







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